Chapter 3
Eve's POV
The laser burned like a red-hot knife digging into my skin.
"You sure about no anesthetic?" The tattoo artist asked again. "This is gonna hurt like hell."
"Yeah. Start."
When the first laser struck, my fingers curled tight, nails digging into my palms.
On my left shoulder, the letters "VK" disappeared bit by bit under the beam. Each pulse felt like ripping open old wounds, the burning spreading from skin to bone.
I bit through my lip. Tasted blood.
Closed my eyes.
That summer when I was sixteen.
Viktor's first time bringing me on a family hit.
The job went south. I took a bullet, nearly died in that abandoned warehouse. Viktor carried me out on his back through a hail of gunfire.
I lay against him, listening to his heartbeat, breathing in his scent—cigars and blood.
That moment, I knew—I loved him.
Hopelessly. Stupidly.
The day after we got back, I snuck to a tattoo parlor.
"Those letters special to you?" the artist asked.
"Everything."
After it was done, I stared in the mirror for ages. Traced those red, swollen letters with my fingertips. Even the pain felt sweet.
I thought carving his name into my skin would bind us together forever.
What a fucking joke.
"Almost done," the artist's voice pulled me back. "Just a few more minutes."
I opened my eyes, watched those blurred letters in the mirror.
That naive girl who thought inking his name would make her his—she was dead.
Half a month after handing over the South District, my life got eerily quiet.
No more core meetings. No more hits. Just training to stay sharp and planning my exit in my room.
Viktor seemed both satisfied and irritated by my "good behavior." He started parading Liliya around the estate more—holding her on his lap feeding her grapes, buying out entire luxury floors, watched me from the corner of his eye, trying to catch jealousy or pain.
Too bad for him.
Watching them was like watching monkeys fuck in a glass cage.
I felt nothing. Wanted to laugh.
That afternoon, I sat on a garden bench cleaning my knife.
Sunshine warm, blade flashing bright.
The click of heels got closer.
Liliya sashayed over, followed by several guys who used to be MY men—now her little bitches.
"Eve," she looked down at me, toying with that black-gold badge, "how's retirement?"
I ignored her, kept polishing the blade.
Liliya's face twisted when I didn't bite.
She leaned in close, voice pure venom. "Wanna know what you are? A stray dog nobody wants. Viktor's MINE. South District's MINE. You're just his pet—his DISCARDED pet."
I stopped and looked up.
"You done running your mouth? Then fuck off."
Liliya's face flushed red. Her hand flew up—
Footsteps. Viktor's steady stride approaching.
Liliya's eyes lit up. She let out a startled cry, stumbled backward, and dropped onto the grass like the dramatic bitch she was.
"Liliya!" Viktor rushed over, slammed his shoulder into me hard.
The force knocked me back. My waist hit the bench armrest, pain exploding from my left shoulder wound.
Motherfucker!
He didn't even glance at me. Just pulled Liliya up, tucked her against his chest.
"It hurts!" Liliya clutched her ankle, tears instant. "Viktor! I just wanted to ask Eve about South District... why did she push me?"
Viktor's glare burned into me. "Eve! What the HELL is wrong with you?!"
I stood and sheathed my knife.
"I didn't fucking touch her."
"Don't you fucking LIE to me!" Viktor roared. "I SAW her fall! You still pissed about losing South District?"
What's the point of explaining?
I looked at Viktor's furious face. Exhaustion hit me.
He wouldn't believe me. He never would.
To him, Liliya's crocodile tears weighed more than my ten years of loyalty.
"You're right," I said calmly. "My bad. She wants an apology, she's got it."
Viktor froze.
Clearly didn't expect me to fold that easy.
Awkward silence.
Then Viktor's right-hand man came running over, panicked as hell.
"Boss!" Sweat poured down his face. "South District's FUCKED! The Vipers hit three of our weapons warehouses. Massive losses. Their boss wants the person in charge at the table NOW, or they're blowing the rest to hell!"
Viktor's face went white.
He whipped around to Liliya. "What the FUCK happened?! You said everything was running smooth!"
Liliya went pale, stammering. "I... I don't know... I've been shopping these past few days... I had my guys handle it..."
"WHAT?!" Viktor's temple vein bulged. "You know how fucking critical South District is?! You used it as fucking TRAINING for your crew?!"
South District was the family's lifeline. Lose it, and everything went to shit.
He took a deep breath, turned to me, voice softening. "Eve. You know South District better than anyone. Go handle this. Clean it up, and I'll let today slide."
He actually thinks I'll go.
I looked at Viktor's expectant face. Had to hold back a smile.
He thought if he asked, I'd drop everything and bleed for him like always.
He thought I was still that dumbass Eve who lived to serve him.
"Sorry, Don." I stepped back, creating distance. "I handed South District control to Liliya. With my current position, I got no business messing with her turf."
I paused, tone polite but cold as ice. "I'm confident the future Mrs. Konstantin can handle this crisis perfectly."
I headed for the gates.
"Eve! Don't you fucking DARE walk away!" Viktor bellowed behind me.
I kept walking. Steps light.
Your mess. Clean up your own shit.
