Chapter 6: The Mistress's Swan Juicy Meat
The THWACK was a sound Iris would never forget—the wet, sickening thud of metal connecting with bone. Marcus groaned, a noise of pure agony, and slumped to the pavement.
Before Iris could process her relief, the two boys finished him. They smiled—not wide, joyful smiles, but thin, cold, focused expressions. The one with the spanner, Zigi, slammed the heavy tool into Marcus's kneecap with a sharp, wet CRACK.
The thug screamed, trying to curl into a ball. Zigi stomped downward onto Marcus's ankle, twisting with brutal efficiency. Another crunch followed by more screams. The sheer terror emanating from the shrillness of the scream was bone chilling.
Marcus choked, writhing, blood bubbling at his lips. His bloodshot eyes were now filled with terror as he knew it was over. He knew the game of this crooked world. Heck, even if he made it through he wouldn't be the same. He raised his arms weakly to shield his face.
The other boy, Yuri, threw a punch that crumpled Marcus's nose flat—a wet, pulpy explosion of crimson. Marcus gasped, spraying blood onto the damp pavement. Zigi raised the spanner again, a malicious grin plastered on his face as he watched the struggling man in glee.
Marcus screeched, a high-pitched, animal sound of pure terror. "No! Please! God, stop!" His voice cracked into a wet sob. Zigi just grinned, teeth gleaming. THWACK-CRUNCH! The spanner came down on Marcus's forearm. Bone splintered audibly.
Marcus's scream choked off into a guttural, despairing moan as his whole body twitched. He bucked wildly. Yuri knelt, pinning Marcus's shattered arm to the concrete with a boot. "Filth," Yuri remarked calmly. "Filth like you pollutes our mistress's sight." He grabbed Marcus's other wrist, forcing it flat against the pavement.
Yuri stomped down onto the back of Marcus's hand with the heel of his boot. Sharp cracks echoed—knuckles, metacarpals, obliterated. Marcus's ragged scream was a continuous, horrific soundtrack now, punctuated only by the sickening pops and snaps of deliberate destruction. Yuri glanced calmly at Zigi.
"The shins?" Zigi nodded eagerly, his whole body shaking with excitement. He lifted the spanner high. Marcus whimpered, a broken animal sound. He knew at this moment, all was gone. How he wished he had never crossed Iris. Hell, he got a sex slave he could fuck all night but you know, a new bone still attracts a dog with an old bone in the mouth. And that very bone had caused his end now.
"Mistress," Zigi crooned mockingly to the air, "watch us clean your path." The spanner descended. CRACK-SHATTER!
Marcus's shin bone fractured sideways, jagged edges tearing through skin. Marcus convulsed silently, his eyes rolled back, consciousness flickering as his whole body started to jerk wildly as if it had now registered a severed link. Zigi leaned close to Marcus's ear.
"This," Zigi hissed, his voice devoid of all emotion, his face inches from Marcus's agony-glazed eyes, his breath cold against Marcus's bleeding ear, "is the price of touching what belongs to another." Zigi pulled back and brought the spanner down one last time—a sharp, precise chop to the side of Marcus's neck. A sickening dull THUD echoed.
Marcus went instantly limp after one powerful jerk of his leg, his choked scream silenced mid-breath. His head lolled sickeningly to the side. Only ragged, bubbling gasps escaped his slack jaw. The brutal symphony ended.
The two boys straightened up, breathing slightly heavier. They exchanged a look—mutual with grim satisfaction. Yuri wiped Marcus's blood off his knuckles onto the unconscious thug's hoodie. Zigi dropped the spanner beside Marcus's ruined leg with a clang.
The silence that followed was immense, heavy with the smell of stale liquor, sweat, and fresh bile.
With the casual efficiency of men disposing of trash, the boys dragged the body into the dense shadows beneath the hedge—a permanent, hidden threat neutralized.
They then turned and walked toward Iris.
She took a clumsy step back, her pale face slicked with cold sweat. She didn't recognize them, and the brutality she had just witnessed was too much. The fragile box of medicine fell from her trembling fingers. She leaned against the brick wall and vomited, the acidic stench of fear and sickness overwhelming her senses.
"Clean up, Princess," Zigi ordered, his voice flat, gesturing dismissively at the mess.
Yuri stepped closer, his smile thin and unsettling. "The toad won't bother you again," he said, his voice surprisingly soft. He looked her up and down, a look that wasn't lustful, but assessing. "We're looking for the leader. You know where he is?"
Iris wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, shuddering violently. The fear was paralyzing, but the question was nonsensical. "Leader? I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered, genuinely confused.
"Elijah," Yuri clarified, his head tilting. "Your stepbrother."
The mention of Elijah shattered the paralysis. Iris's fear instantly fractured into moral outrage and a surge of contempt—a perverse kind of courage fueled by the assumption that her status as Elijah's kin offered ironclad protection. Her voice, though shaky, found its familiar, mocking tone.
"Oh, him. Yes, I know him. The despicable one," Iris scoffed, kicking the fallen medicine box closer to her feet. She straightened her spine, looking between the two boys—one Russian, one African, both terrifyingly efficient. "So you two are his little helpers? His new recruits? Tell me, why choose to follow a cockroach like Elijah? When you could be using your obvious skills for something productive, something good?"
Zigi, already volatile from the confrontation with Marcus, bristled. "Shut your mouth, little girl. You've got guts for someone who almost had her face ripped off."
"She has every right to speak," Yuri interjected, his voice still low and measured, stepping slightly in front of Zigi. "She is the mistress."
"Mistress?" Iris laughed, the sound high-pitched and hysterical. "You think you're protecting some mob boss's little wife? Get a grip! He's my stepbrother! And he's a narcissist who uses people. The worst kind of person."
Zigi took a step toward her, his dark eyes narrowed to slits of fury. "You sound ungrateful, mistress. We just saved you from a filth like that. If we were 'stupid,' as you suggest, and weren't here, you would be crying for the police right now, having been..." he trailed off, letting the image hang in the air.
"You're right," Iris shot back, meeting his glare, her body trembling but her jaw set. "If you were stupid, I wouldn't have been in danger at all. Because you are exactly the kind of trash that makes this neighborhood a dumpster fire. Instead of using your life to pull yourselves out, you join up with the biggest piece of human debris I know." She shoved Yuri back with both hands, gaining ground toward the house. "Fuck off and get a life! Elijah is grounded, so go bother someone who cares!"
That was the breaking point for Zigi. "You little bitch!" he roared, his voice thick with frustration and insult. "You need to learn respect! Who the hell do you think you are talking to?" He lunged, a swift, brutal punch aimed straight for Iris's face.
Iris gasped, scrambling back, her eyes wide with fresh terror.
But Yuri was faster. He caught Zigi's jacket and wrenched him back with unexpected strength, pulling the blow wide. The fist whizzed past Iris's ear, the rush of displaced air making her flinch violently, finally silencing her mockery.
Zigi fought against Yuri's grip, his muscles corded. "What was that for, Yuri? She needs to be taught a lesson! You saw her mouth!"
Yuri didn't release him. He held Zigi in a vice, his gaze hard. "And risk the leader's displeasure? What if Eli cared about her, Zigi? Think."
The question, phrased in terms of pure utility and hierarchy, was like a bucket of cold water. Zigi stilled, his breathing heavy, his gaze locked on Iris. He finally relaxed, but the fury remained.
He gave Iris a slow, withering stare. "You got lucky, bitch. Don't push it. If Eli truly didn't care about you, I would come back later and bone your juicy ass myself." He spit on the pavement and turned away with a harsh, frustrated huff.
Yuri smiled—that same cold, apologetic smile—and addressed Iris, ignoring the explicit threat his partner just issued. "Tell Eli to meet us after his home imprisonment is lifted. We have things to show him."
Yuri then walked off, catching up to the retreating Zigi.
Iris stood alone in the dark, watching the medicine box, her chest heaving. The cold sweat turned into full-body shivers. She knew the threat was not empty. The thought of Elijah's reaction, his calculated indifference, made her shudder again. Would he care? Or would Zigi's assessment of her value stand?
She forced herself to shake off the terror and focus on the immediate task. The medicine and Akari.
She snatched the box and bolted toward the welcome lights of home.