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ARTEMIS AKA WOLF

I watch as my young wife-to-be, who is much younger than I am. Runaway with tears pooling in her piercing Jade-coloured irises.

Her mane of red hair bounces up and down with each angry stride she makes. Leaving behind her scent, and femininity of hibiscus petals.

It clings to my nose and then recedes as her heels click harshly against the marble floor, playing a brutal symphony of disdain and grief. 

Thrusting out my chin, I inhale the air and feed off her anguish. 

She has poison written all over her. Innocent, and naive. 

I release the harsh breath that contaminates my mouth, brushing a rough hand over my face. "You better not screw me over on this Igor," I mutter as I turn to face him.

"As a close friend and consigliere, I have nothing but your best interests in mind. By marrying her, you reclaim complete power over the city's fifteen districts." He declares with certainty. 

"She is young. Too young." 

"Da, and if you choose to have children, she is ideal for bearing them."

A cold chill runs over my body, my hand lifts to the scar on my throat, and a small snarl departs from my lips. "I have told you time and time again that me having children is off the table. My legacy ends with me. My empire burns to ground with me." I look at my wrist. 

She has gone over her two minutes by three long and excruciating seconds. Being surrounded by racks full of wedding gowns is suffocating me.

I storm off in the direction I watched her leave. As I reach the room, pounding my closed fist against the door it slowly pushes open and reveals an empty room. 

Grinding my teeth, I pinch the bridge of my nose. This child-woman is going to drive me insane. I walk back into the centre of the boutique. 

"She's escaped!" I brush my hand over my face. "Find her and drag her ass back here, unharmed or I'll have your fucking heads!"  

My guards rush out of the boutique in opposite directions quicker than a buttered bullet.

I turn and look at Igor once again. "I'm too old to be doing this shit,"

"You're only thirty-five, not fifty-seven. For a Russian Kingpin, you're fucking dramatic. You have plenty of stamina to chase your wife around the city." He smirks as he walks away, and starts to whistle like the wise-ass that he is. 

I stand alone looking in the mirror, my eyes dart around looking at all the dresses that are on the racks and display windows.

Being here stirs some painful memories that I have tried to suppress. The memories that have no business flooding my head and contaminating my heart like a cascading river.

A small breeze envelopes me, and I swear I can smell and taste her perfume. I close my eyes, thrust my chin out and fill my lungs with her scent.

I miss her. 

I miss the sound of her throaty laugh. The sound of her voice. The way she use to sway her hips to the beat of the music, but mostly, I miss the way she use to taste on my tongue. The last six years have been cruel.

Brutal to say the least. 

"Anastazia..." I mutter. 

"Boss!" 

At the sound of Viktor's voice, my eyelids spring open instantly meeting his gaze. Viktor is the head of my security detail, my most loyal soldier and confidant. I dont say anything, I just raise my brows and wait for him to speak. 

"We found her. She slipped into the bar two blocks away with another male. He also looked too handsy for my taste." His features harden as he explains that another male is with my wife. 

My nostrils flare as my eyes narrow into thin slits and my body goes rigid. "Who is the male she is with?" I ask through gritted teeth as an odd sensation of possessiveness overrides every logical sense in my being. 

"If I'm not mistaken, I believe the male she is with is her bodyguard, Kai." 

"Bring the SUV to the front and inform your men not to approach her or lose sight of her," I order, running a frustrated hand through my hair.

Viktor nods his head, turns on his heel after his eyes sweep the boutique and he exits through the front door of the shop. I take a moment to myself saying a silent prayer to the Gods asking for the strength and patience of a damn Angel where Red is concerned.

*

The SUV pulls up in front of the old shabby pub that my wife has slipped into seeking refuge. Viktor gets out from behind the driver's seat, walks around the vehicle and opens my door. I slide out from the rear passenger seat and click my neck into place as I remove my suit jacket.

I toss it into the vehicle, rolling my sleeves up to my forearm, removing my gun from the back of my pants, I pop the magazine checking how many bullets I have. I look up at the sign that dangles above the entry. 

The name CLUBROOMS flashes in bright red. 

Shaking my head I click the magazine back into place, tuck my gun into the back of my pants, and storm into the shitty bar with two of my men following close behind me. 

As I walk through the door I summon all the willpower that I can muster up to prevent myself from walking the way I came in, and burning the place down till all that remains is ashes. 

The air is dense with nicotine clouds that float through the atmosphere. Stale piss, promiscuity, and spilt booze cling to the furniture infecting every spec of thread.

My eyes search the room until they come to rest on the back of the head of the man who has my wife pressed against the wall with his hand up her dress.

"Kai, get off me!" Her cries for him to stop are muffled by his hand covering her mouth.

"Come on baby girl. I know you want it, I've seen the way you look at me." 

I remove my gun from the back of my pants and press the cold barrel against the side of his temple, "My wife told you to get off her," The tone of my voice comes out calmy masking how livid I truly feel.

As I cock the gun, I apply more pressure to his temple with it, making my intentions very clear.

He stiffens, raising his hands. "I-"

I don't hesitate to pull the damn trigger. 

My ears ring with the thunderous sound of my gun discharging and Reds' terrified cry. Just as Kai's lifeless body falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes, blood splatters across the wall, across Red's face, and over my pristine white shirt.

Putting my gun away, Viktor rushes to my side. "Drag this kusok der'ma  [piece of shit] out of here," I growl taking in Red's current state of shock. 

I reach out with my outstretched hand, intending to wipe away the spot of blood on her face. She inhales a razor-sharp breath and turns away from me, her jaded eyes filling with tears.