Chapter 4: You'd Think The Devil Has Horns

‎Nora’s POV

‎The air in the apartment felt thick, like it was choking me. Mikhail Romanov sat on our sagging couch, legs crossed, his blonde hair catching the dim light, those sharp blue eyes boring into my soul. Handsome as the devil, but a devil all the same. His leather coat draped over him like a king’s robe, his cologne—an expensive, suffocating cloud—mixing with the stale scent of our cheap apartment. His men, hulking shadows in ski masks, loomed like executioners, their machine guns glinting. Aleksei, the dark-haired one with a grim face, gripped my arms, holding me back as I lunged toward the hallway where Elias was.

‎“Let him go!” I screamed, my voice raw, tearing through the quiet. “You’ve got the wrong guy! Elias doesn’t leave the house except for therapy. He’s clean!” My words were a desperate shield, but the truth gnawed at me. Elias’s demons—addiction, bad choices—never stayed buried long.

‎Mikhail snapped his fingers, a casual flick that carried the weight of a guillotine. Two of his men stormed down the hall, their boots thudding. I thrashed against Aleksei’s hold, swearing a storm. “Get your hands off him! You’re wrong!” But my voice cracked as the men dragged Elias out, his lean frame struggling against their iron grips. His headphones dangled, indie rock faintly buzzing. His eyes met mine, wide with terror, and then locked on Mikhail. His face paled, blood draining like he’d seen a ghost.

‎The sight hit me like a punch—fear, guilt, and something worse. Elias knew something. My chest tightened, tears stinging as I glared at him. “What did you do?” I whispered, voice trembling with anger and betrayal.

‎Elias opened his mouth, but no words came. One of the men kicked him hard behind the knees, dropping him to the floor. He groaned, writhing, hands pinned behind his back. My tears broke free, hot and unstoppable. “Stop it!” I pleaded, turning to Mikhail, who lounged like he was watching a show. “Whatever you think he did, let’s talk. Please!”

‎Mikhail’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing as he rose and crouched beside Elias, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair. Elias winced, his voice shaking. “I-I was forced! I owed money to some guys—gang members. They said they’d hurt Nora, hurt me, if I didn’t pay by the deadline. They gave me no choice!” He sputtered, words tumbling out. “My friend Rick, he knew about the shipment. Said it was some local crew, not... not you. I swear, if I’d known it was the Romanovs, I’d never have touched it!”

‎Mikhail’s jaw ticked, his expression darkening. He glanced at Aleksei, who still held me, then back at Elias. “You and your friends,” he said, voice low, “slipped past my security. How?”

‎Elias swallowed, trembling. “We... watched the warehouse. A few days. Knew when the guards changed shifts. Timed it.”

‎Mikhail’s laugh was sinister, sharp enough to cut. “Petty thieves with a plan. Elaborate, I’ll give you that. But stupid enough to think you could rob me and walk away.” He stood, towering over Elias, his presence swallowing the room. “You don’t cross the Romanovs and live to brag.”

‎My tears fell harder, rage boiling over. “Elias, you idiot!” I shouted, voice cracking. “I trusted you! I thought you were clean, staying out of trouble!” My heart twisted—love for my brother warring with fury at his stupidity. He looked away, muttering apologies, his guilt a knife in my chest.

‎I turned to Mikhail, desperation clawing at me. “How much?” I demanded. “The stuff he took—what’s it worth? I’ll pay it back.”

‎Mikhail’s eyes glinted, amused. He laughed, a cold, mocking sound. “You? With your half-assed jobs? You think you can cover it, Фурия?”

‎I bristled, spitting back, “At least I earn my money honestly. Tell me the number.”

‎He studied me, his gaze intense, like he was peeling back my skin to read my thoughts. “$75,000.”

‎My breath caught, eyes widening. Seventy-five grand? I spun on Elias, voice rising. “How could you be so stupid? What were you thinking?” He flinched, silent, and I faced Mikhail again, grasping at straws. “I’ll do anything. Work it off, whatever it takes. Just don’t hurt him.”

‎Mikhail tutted, shaking his head. “It’s not just money, Nora. It’s the principle. I let your brother walk, others think they can rob me too. One of them talks, and suddenly every lowlife in this city thinks the Romanovs are soft.” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “I’ve got his friends already—Rick and Theo. My men are waiting for my word to end them.”

‎My blood froze. Elias’s eyes went wide, his pleas frantic. “No, please! I’ll do anything!” My own voice joined his, raw and desperate. “Don’t! Please, there’s got to be a way!”

‎Mikhail’s smirk returned, darker now. He stepped toward me, slow, deliberate. His fingers brushed a stray hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I flinched, backing away, his touch like a spark I couldn’t trust. “If you’re truly willing to do anything,” he said, voice low, “we can work something out. You and me.”

‎My stomach twisted, spite flaring. I wanted to smash that smirk off his face, to hit him with something heavy. “What do you want?” I spat, dreading the answer.

‎He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “Be my companion. Six months. Live with me. Your brother’s debt—gone. I’ll even cover what he owes those thugs.”

‎I stared, hatred burning. Companion? Live with him? The words dripped with implication, his smug face daring me to refuse. Elias whimpered on the floor, and I hated him too, for dragging us into this. But I couldn’t let him die.

‎Mikhail’s gaze hardened, as if sensing my hesitation. He pulled out his phone, dialed, and put it on speaker. Muffled voices came through—pleading, panicked. Rick and Theo, I realized, my heart sinking. “Do it,” Mikhail said, voice cold as ice.

‎A gunshot cracked through the speaker, then another. The pleas stopped. My knees buckled, Aleksei’s grip the only thing keeping me upright. Elias sobbed, collapsing further. I stared at Mikhail, horror and rage choking me. “You monster,” I whispered, tears streaming. “I’ll make you pay for this one day. I swear it.”

‎He laughed, a low, wicked sound, his eyes alight with my defiance. “Oh, Фурия, I love that fire. It’ll make this interesting.” Aleksei watched, his expression cold, unreadable, as if he’d seen this play out a hundred times.

‎I glared at Mikhail, my heart a warzone of hate and fear. Those gunshots echoed in my mind—Rick and Theo, gone. Elias could be next. I had no choice. “Fine,” I hissed, voice shaking. “I’ll do it. Six months. But I promise it'll be a living hell for you and you'll regret it.”

‎His smirk widened, like he’d won a prize. “We’ll see about that,” he said, stepping back. “Pack a bag. You’re coming with me. Now.”

‎I stood frozen, the weight of my decision crushing me. Mikhail’s men released Elias, who slumped to the floor, sobbing. I wanted to scream at him, to shake him for dragging us into this hell, but I couldn’t. Not now. Mikhail watched me, his blue eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t read—amusement, desire, or something darker. Aleksei let go of my arms, stepping back, his cold gaze flicking between us.

‎“Go,” Mikhail said, nodding toward my room. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

‎I swallowed my rage, wiping my tears. I’d agreed to save Elias, but every fiber of me screamed to fight, to run. The gunshots still rang in my ears—Rick and Theo, dead because of my brother’s stupidity. Because of Mikhail’s cruelty. I hated him, hated his smug face, his power, his world. But I’d made my choice.

‎I stumbled to my room, grabbing a bag with shaking hands. Clothes, toothbrush, whatever I could fit. Elias’s apologies followed me, weak and useless. “I’m sorry, Nora,” he mumbled from the floor.

‎“Shut up,” I snapped, not looking at him. My heart broke for him, but my anger burned hotter. I’d trusted him, believed he was clean, and now I was paying the price.

‎Mikhail waited by the door, his men looming like shadows. Aleksei stood apart, his expression unreadable but heavy with something—disapproval, maybe, or pity. I didn’t care. I slung the bag over my shoulder, glaring at Mikhail. “Let’s go,” I said, voice cold. “But don’t think this makes me yours.”

‎He chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, we’ll have fun proving you wrong.”

‎As we left, Elias’s sobs faded behind me. The city outside was waking, oblivious to the nightmare I’d just stepped into. Mikhail’s world was a cage, and I was trapped—for now. But I’d find a way to make him pay. Someday.

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