Emperor of Rage: A Dark Mafia Enemies To Lovers Romance

There’s a split second as Jonas is dragging Mal through the door that I freeze.

There’s too much to worry about.

Hana, lying stunned and bleeding on the ground. Kir, who looks barely an hour away from death.

Mal, being dragged to God-knows-where by that psychopath.

But before I can wrench myself out of my frozen state, a shape suddenly goes tumbling and crashing past me.

Oh God.

Kir lurches across the floor, launching himself forward onto the ground and reaching out. At the last second, just as the door is about to click and lock shut, Kir’s fingers curl desperately into the doorframe.

“Kir!” I scream, rushing toward him.

His grip on the door falters for a moment before he catches it, wedging his hand into the crack. He grunts as the door slams on his fingers. But it doesn’t close.

He’s deathly pale, his skin translucent and waxy, sweat streaming from his brow. But he holds the door open, even though his strength—and his consciousness—is fading fast.

“Go,” he croaks, barely focusing on me as he slumps to the ground.

I quickly grab a small chunk of concrete off the ground, wedging it into the door before I gently release his fingers. I ease Kir onto his back, tears in my eyes as I take his hands and kneel next to him.

“Freya…go⁠—”

“I’m not fucking leaving you here,” I spit, my heart wrenching as I glance down at his side. God, it looks terrible. And there’s fresh brownish red blood seeping into his filthy shirt.

“Freya, you need to…” He wheezes. “You need to go help Mal.”

My heart breaks. I hesitate, torn between the need to help Kir and the panic rising inside me about Mal. Kir’s eyes find mine, locking onto me with a fierce intensity, even though pain is etched into every line of his face.

The look he gives me says everything we haven’t had time to say in the last few days. In this moment, all the doubt and disbelief when the voice on the loudspeaker told me Kir is my father crashes down as we look at each other.

None of that matters. All I see is Kir, the man who’s been my father in every way that counts. The man who saved me from an aimless life and gave me a new purpose.

“When we get out of here…” Kir growls quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “and we will…you and I, Freya, will have a long conversation about a lot of things,” he croaks.

I nod, tears blurring my vision. “Kir⁠—”

“But for now, get Mal,” he rasps, his voice cracking. “Go.”

I glance at Hana, crumpled on the floor, her body limp but her chest rising softly. Kir sees the fear in my eyes and nods.

“I’ll make sure she’s okay,” he barely whispers. “Now go.”

My legs obey before I can think, carrying me stumbling out of the room and through a dark hallway until I come to a staircase leading up into another basement. Mal’s roar of pain echoes through the walls from somewhere above, a sound so anguished it sends shivers down my spine. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart racing as I push on.

At the top of the stairs, I burst through a door into an utterly dilapidated, crumbling old farmhouse.

And everything goes to hell.

The light hits me all at once, blinding after the suffocating darkness of the basement.

Burning me.

I flinch, gasping as I stagger back into the dimness of the staircase.

It’s daytime.

Sunlight streams in through the cracked windows and the holes in the ceiling and walls. Pure survival instinct sinks its claws into me, and I shrink back from the light, my body shuddering.

Then I hear it.

A roar of pain.

My heart wrenches as I venture to the top of the stairs again. I crane my neck, peering out through the half burned-out kitchen and the shattered side door and across an overgrown farmyard.

Holy fucking shit.

Jonas is dragging a heavily bloodied Mal across the dirt toward the open maw of a leaning, rickety old barn.

I choke back a sob, my heart twisting as I watch the monster yank the man I love into the shadows. Through the huge open barn door, I watch, sobbing, as Jonas ties Mal’s wrists together. He yanks an old rope down from a pulley up in the rafters, slipping the metal hook at the end of it through the bonds at Mal’s wrists.

I stifle a cry when Jonas yanks hard on the other end of the rope, hoisting Mal up into the air, his body dangling from the hook, his feet barely scraping against the ground.

Mal’s blood drips onto the dirt floor, his body limp, his face twisted in agony. Jonas moves with chilling calmness, a cruel smile forming on his lips as he grabs a whip from the wall and cracks it through the air.

“NO!!!” I scream, my throat raw and cracked, my body past the point of exhaustion. Tears flow hotly down my cheeks as I sink my nails into the old doorframe of the basement stairs, watching the horror unfold across the sunlit yard.

The whip slashes across Mal’s back with a sickening crack. His body jerks, and I scream again, choking on the sound.

Another crack.

And another.

My heart breaks.

I can’t do this. I can’t watch him die like this.

I won’t.

Jonas turns, his eyes gleaming with demented delight as he reaches for a rusty hay fork hanging on the wall, and my blood runs cold.

No.

It all comes rushing back to me: the story Mal told me about the night when Kasper beat Filip to death. The night Mal snapped, running his own grandfather through with a hay fork.

I realize I’m not just watching abject cruelty.

I’m watching revenge.

Jonas was the favorite: the one who idolized Mal’s grandfather and looked up to him in every way. The one who felt nothing but betrayal when Mal killed the cold-hearted monster.

This is Jonas’ revenge, his twisted re-enactment of that night.

There’s no time to think. My eyes dart around the kitchen until I spot an old knife lying in the sink. It’s dull and rusty, but it’s all I’ve got.

My hand wraps tight around the handle. I pause at the side door, shrinking into the shadows next to it, already feeling the light raking its nails over my skin.

But there’s no time to worry about me or make a better plan. It’s this, or the man I love dies.

Put that way, it’s an easy choice.

Just the same, it’s like being set on fire.

The burning sensation tears through my skin the instant I step outside, blistering, scorching. The heat is overwhelming. The smell of my own flesh searing fills my nostrils like poison, but I keep running.

I can’t stop. Not now.

I burst into the barn, the knife heavy in my hand, my vision swimming with agony and every inch of my body feeling almost literally on fire. Jonas whirls, his eyes widening with surprise as I slam into him, driving the knife deep into his stomach with every ounce of strength I have left.

He roars in pain, doubling over. He grabs my arm, sending explosions of agony ripping through me at the mere touch of his hand on my seared, burned skin.

“You little bitch!!”

The handle of the hay fork in his other hand crashes into my right temple and I collapse to the ground, my mind reeling, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision as it swims in and out of focus.

I try to move. But my body doesn’t respond. The world tilts as Jonas towers over me, his face twisted into a mask of sadistic glee.

“Ahh yes, the sunlight,” he snarls, his lips curled into a malevolent grin. “You really are a fucking vampire.”

Darkness is closing in fast, and the pain is unbearable. The burns on my skin throb, the taste of blood coppery on my tongue. Jonas crouches beside me, and I scream when he drags a finger over the blisters on my arm.

“I was going to end this quickly,” he murmurs low in my ear, “but I’ve changed my mind.”

Jonas grabs me by the arm, ripping another ragged scream from my raw throat. Without warning, he yanks me out of the shade of the barn and back into the relentless sunlight.

Fire consumes me.

Pain destroys me.

But it’s knowing that this is the end and I don’t get to spend it with Mal that truly kills me.

“No…” I whimper, trying to curl into a ball around myself, my skin blistering worse as the sun claws into me. “Please…”

“I’ll enjoy watching you burn,” Jonas says thoughtfully, his voice laced with venom.

The sun rips through my flesh, my body convulsing with pain. My vision darkens completely, until I can’t tell if it’s the sun or the darkness swallowing me whole. The heat is intolerable, and I’m seconds from giving up when I hear it.

A twig snapping underfoot.

A growl.

A roar.

And then Jonas is ripped away from me and flung back like a rag doll.

I’m barely conscious as Mal scoops me into his arms, cradling my limp, burned body gently against his chest as he staggers deep into the blessed shade of the barn.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’ve got you…”

He wrenches one of the horse stall doors open and sits me down behind it, as if trying to shield me further.

He turns again, blood pouring down from his ribs as he charges back outside. Jonas is just staggering to his feet as Mal’s bloodied frame slams into him with a primal fury.

“Mal! Stop!”

Jonas’ eyes go wide as Mal rips the hay fork away from him.

“Mal! We’re brothers!” he shrieks, blood and spit dripping from his mouth. “We’re family!”

Mal’s cold, brutal laugh shreds the air.

“No, Jonas. We’re not.”

The sickening sound of steel points plunging wetly through Jonas’ throat into the dirt, followed by Jonas’ gurgling scream, has me wrenching my face away and squeezing my eyes shut.

I flinch as a shadow falls over me. The light is still streaming in through the barn door, inching closer and closer as the sun rises higher in the sky.

“I’m here,” Mal croaks as he drops to his knees in front of me. I can barely move without pure agony ripping open every single nerve in my body. But I still manage to throw myself against him.

It doesn’t matter if it hurts when his arms encircle me.

I don’t care.

Because if this is the end, he’s who I want to hold onto.

Mal eases us down, covering my body with his. He winces as he rips his shirt off, covering more of me with it.

I look up at him, tears streaming down my face. “I love you,” I choke out.

“I love you too,” he rasps quietly. Then his eyes roll back and wet stickiness flows from the stabs in his side, coating me.

My vision fades. My body screams in pain, but then a smile twists my lips.

Not a bad way to die.

One last moment in the morning sunlight.

In his arms.