|05

ARTEMIS AKA WOLF

From the foot of the stairs, I tilt my head back and fix my gaze on the enormous cross that rises, dominating atop the Catholic Church's rooftop.

I do not regard myself as a religious man.

If I'm being completely sincere, I believe that God forgot about me many, many years ago.

But then, I could be terribly wrong as I bear the hideous scar of his presence that is smeared across my damn throat. 

I usually get a bad vibe when I walk into a church. My shoes tend to feel like bricks, weighing me down with every step I take. 

A sinner like me shouldn't be welcomed here, but the priest somehow manages to make me feel comfortable.

I have come here to seek forgiveness for my sins, only to commit them again.

I sit in the first pew of the church, my eyes concentrating on the crucifix with Jesus nailed to it, while the priest to my right spins the rosary beads in his hand. I prefer to confess my sins in the open, refusing to enter the confessional because I am unable to look the priest in the eye as I speak.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned. My last confession was three days ago and I have killed four men and taken a bride whom I do not love."  I hold my head high, refusing to hang it in shame. 

The priest sucks in a sharp breath, "What compelled you to take the lives of these four men?" He asks sternly with his metal gun irises gazing into mine with no judgement gleaming in them at all.

"Two men double-crossed me,"

I think back to two nights ago when I was caught in a crossfire between two low profile gangs. 

Unfortunately, they were promised a shipment of high classified military guns.

One of my men decided to arrange a deal behind my back. Completely unaware that we had rescheduled our meeting with the private purchaser.

"I see,"

"Then I killed a man today because he decided to take something by force that did not belong to him." I snarl as I think about Kai touching Red in that shithole bar.

The priest raises his rosary to his lips and kisses it as he mutters a silent prayer. 

When he is done, I continue. "The fourth man I killed not long ago. His blood still flows freely through the cracks of my driveway as we speak. I lost my temper when I shoved my wife into the boot of my SUV. She refused to obey my orders and I was unaware that she suffered from Claustrophobia." 

"And your men suffered as a result of your lack of interest in learning about your wife's medical condition?" He asks firmly with his brows raised. 

"I pay my men very handsomely to carry out the duties I set aside for them. Going over her file was one of them." 

"Hmmm, and this wife of yours?"

"Our status is not exclusive just yet. I require your signature in order to process our marriage certificate."

"You have not exchanged your vows yet?"

[No,] "Net, and I don't intend to. This marriage is for business purposes only. I've married once and that was enough." 

My heart constricts leaving a foul taste behind in my mouth when I think of marrying another woman in a church.

I am a widow and I will remain one under the gaze of the lord. 

"It is not a sin for a man to have a second lover after his first has died. You will always discover that a man can only perform at his peak with a strong woman standing behind him."

"The love of my life was Anastazia. She adored me for who I was and all I had endured ascending to the Volkov throne. I cannot love someone who is thirteen years younger than me. Period."

"I see. It is unorthodox for me to perpetrate something like this, Mr Volkov. But I can only imagine the path of destruction you will leave in your wake if I refuse to oblige." 

[Yes,] "Da, I always get what I want. Even if I have to take it by force." 

"Yes..." He hums in agreement, bowing his head, "Let us pray," he begins to recite the prayer of absolution.

*

Sitting behind my desk, I pour myself a hefty dose of Whiskey. After the day I'm having, I think it's safe to say that I deserve it. I take a sip from the cool tumbler and notice a brown folder laying in the centre of the oak slab of my desk. 

As I swirl the golden liquid in my tumbler and examine the folder over the rim of my crystal tumbler. I wonder what possessed me to shoot one of my men and seek her medical records as if I genuinely care.

I run my thick tongue over my top teeth taking another sip. Leaning forward, I make the mistake of letting my curiosity get the better of me once again. I place my tumbler on the coaster and open the folder.

ARIA  ROSE CREED.

Date Of Birth: 7 December 2000                         

Marital Status: Single

Language Spoken: English 

Guardian: Braxton Creed

Provider: Ashton Medical Centre

Doctor: Brent Bryant

HEALTH HISTORY:

Diabetes: [Nil]

High Blood Pressure: [Nil]

High Cholesterol: [Nil]

Broken Bones: Left arm, right middle finger, right large toe, and cheekbone. [Dating back from 2009 to 2018]

Other Health Conditions:

*The patient believes she suffers from claustrophobia. A diagnosis has not been made.

*Allergic to bees: Severely.

*Asthmatic: Moderate.

SOCIAL HISTORY:

Smoke: Occasionally.

Drinks Alcohol: Yes. 3-6 times a month.

Recreational Drugs: [Nil]

Sexually Active: [Nil]                 

Contraception: [Nil]

Children: [Nil]

[Shit!] "Dermo!"

I slam the folder shut, my lips snarling as my brows pinch together.

She is yet to be diagnosed with claustrophobia?

From what I witnessed with my own eyes, it's very evident that she suffers from the irrational dread of being trapped in confined settings.

You can not fake the symptoms she stimulated with sweat beading her pale skin. The way her body shook in my arms was very real, and she made a muffled choking sound as if she were struggling for oxygen.

The kid has shattered more bones in nine years than I have in my whole life. 

Which says a lot as I grew up with a heavy-handed father who only knew how to demonstrate his love with his brutal hands.

Disgust. Vengeance. Fury. 

All of these sensations lick my feverish skin, tattooing their impressions upon my dormant fucking soul.

 I will determine whether her father also showed her affection with his fists too. And if he did, I hope he can still manage his insufferable organisation while having eight fingers shattered.

It stirs the turmoil that churns in my gut, and I'm quickly easing into my trigger happy mood. 

As Aria will be his lone surviving heir if I eliminate him. I am confident that the families will continue to be lenient with our arrangement.

Red belongs to me, and she is now under my full protection until the ink runs dry on our divorce papers. 

I will be loyal to her. 

Committed to running our empires smoothly as I gradually take everything she owns before I send her on her merry way, with a generous cheque in her hand.