A Goodbye That Isn’t Real

Emily’s POV

The air is cold, sharp as a blade, but it does nothing to numb the pressure in my chest.

The black car waits at the end of the long driveway, headlights piercing through the thick fog that coils around the mansion like a beast refusing to let go of its prey.

I should feel relief.

Instead, I feel like I’m walking into something worse.

I force my feet to move, one slow step after another, keeping my breathing steady. Each step feels wrong, unnatural, like I’m acting out a scene from someone else’s life—a life where I actually get to walk away.

But I don’t.

Because the second I try—

Steel fingers clamp around my wrist.

The pull is sudden, forceful, unforgiving. I don’t even have time to gasp before I’m yanked back, my body colliding with something solid, warm, dangerous.

"You think you can walk away from me?"

His voice isn’t loud. It doesn’t have to be.

It slithers over my skin, seeping into my veins, coiling around my ribs like a vice.

His grip tightens—not enough to break, but enough to remind me that he could.

That he would.

I swallow hard. "You said I could leave."

Silence.

It stretches between us, thick and suffocating, pressing against my ribs like invisible hands.

Slowly, I turn.

And that’s when I see it.

The way he’s looking at me.

I’ve seen Alex angry. I’ve seen him ruthless. But this? This is something worse.

His expression is calm. But his eyes—his eyes are burning.

Not with regret. Not with sadness.

With possession.

With obsession.

Like he’s already decided how this ends.

The realization sends a chill through me. I should rip my wrist from his grip. I should run.

I don’t get the chance.

Because in the next breath—he moves.

His lips crash into mine.

Hard. Desperate. Unforgiving.

It’s not a kiss. It’s a punishment. A warning. A claim.

His fingers tangle in my hair, his other hand pressing into the small of my back, forcing me against him like he can burn himself into my bones.

I try to push him away. I don’t.

I hate him.

I crave him.

And that’s the worst part.

When he finally rips himself away, I gasp, my head spinning, my lips swollen from his brutality.

His forehead rests against mine, his breath hot and ragged.

"One month, Kotenok." His voice is quiet, but there’s something lethal in it. "That’s all you get."

I close my eyes. "And if I don’t come back?"

He doesn’t hesitate.

He smiles.

But it isn’t warm. It isn’t even human.

"You will."

Then, finally—he lets go.

But he doesn’t step back.

He watches as I turn, watches as I open the car door, his presence dragging against my skin like chains I can’t see.

I don’t look back.

I shut the door. The engine hums. The car starts to move.

My fingers tremble as I touch my lips, still tingling from his touch, from the imprint of his presence.

And for the first time, I realize—

Alex didn’t give me freedom.

He gave me the illusion of it.

And illusions always shatter.

Alex’s POV

She’s gone.

The car is nothing but taillights disappearing into the night.

And yet—

I feel her still.

The warmth of her lips, the tremor in her fingers before she walked away. The way her eyes, even as she forced herself forward, looked like they were searching for an excuse to stay.

She hates me. I know that.

But hatred is still a tether.

And no matter how far she runs, no matter how much she tries to fight it—she is still mine.

"You actually let her go?"

Xavier’s voice cuts through the silence, edged with disbelief.

I don’t look at him. I watch the road instead. The road that will eventually lead her back to me.

"I gave her a choice."

I pause. A slow, cruel smile tugs at my lips.

"Let’s see what she does with it."

Because this isn’t over.

Not even close.

One month.

One month to watch her. To wait.

To remind her that no matter where she goes, no matter how far she runs—I will always find her.

The thought should soothe me. It doesn’t.

Because my blood is still boiling.

Because she is gone.

Because my grandfather forced my hand, forced me to put my mark on her while he watched, forced me to choke down my rage as the iron seared into her flesh.

I should have burned him alive.

Instead, I did what he wanted.

And now, I need to remind myself who the fuck I am.

I turn on my heel, my movements sharp, precise.

"Get the car."

Xavier hesitates. "Where are we going?"

I smile.

"To burn something down."

The warehouse is dark, filled with the stench of sweat, gasoline, and fear.

The leader of the Iron Fangs is tied to a chair, his face swollen, one eye barely open from the beating my men gave him.

"You should’ve stayed in your lane."

I wipe the blood off my blade, watching as it glistens under the dim light.

He spits blood at my feet. "Go to hell."

I smirk. "I’ve been there."

Then, without another word, I drive my knife into his thigh.

He screams.

I press harder, twisting the blade. "Tell me, how many shipments of my weapons did you intercept? How many of my men did you think you could kill before I came knocking?"

His breath is ragged, his body shaking from pain. But he doesn’t answer.

I sigh. "Fine. Keep your mouth shut. It won’t matter in five minutes."

I nod to Mikhail, who stands by the gasoline drums. He starts pouring. The stench thickens, coating the air.

The Iron Fangs thought they were untouchable.

Tonight, I remind them who rules this empire.

"Wait—WAIT!" The leader chokes out. "We—we can deal! We can—"

I crouch, gripping his jaw, my fingers pressing into the bruises.

"Did I ask for a deal?"

I release him and pull out a match, rolling it between my fingers.

The flames flicker, casting shadows on my bloodstained knuckles.

"You disrespected me."

I flick the match.

The fire explodes.

The screams start instantly—desperate, raw, beautiful.

I watch, letting the heat lick at my skin, letting the chaos soothe something deep inside me.

This is what I was made for.

Power. Control. Destruction.

And yet—

As I turn, stepping over the bodies, walking away from the inferno I created, I still feel empty.

Because my Kotenok is out there, without me.

And until I have her back—

This city will drown in fire and blood.

The flames rage.

They dance hungrily over steel and flesh, licking up gasoline-soaked wood, devouring everything in sight. The air is thick with the stench of burning men, their screams fading into crackling embers and smoke.

But I feel nothing.

Nothing except the hollow ache in my chest.

Nothing except the weight of an absence I cannot stand.

She’s gone.

And I let her go.

My fists clench at my sides, my knuckles already split, still stained with blood—not enough. Not nearly enough to quiet the hunger gnawing at me.

"That should send a message."

Xavier’s voice is detached, like this is nothing more than business. A necessary purge.

I don’t look at him. My eyes are fixed on the inferno, the chaos, the suffering I created. And still, it is not enough.

"You’re thinking about her."

I don’t react.

He exhales, amused. "You let her go, and now you're burning the city to the ground to stop yourself from dragging her back?"

I close my eyes.

Just for a second.

And I see her.

The way she trembled when I kissed her. The defiance burning in her gaze, the hatred—mine. The way she didn’t fight me the way she should have.

Because she knew.

She knows.

I let her leave. But I didn’t set her free.

And she will come back. She has to.

Or I will burn down everything in my path until she has nowhere left to run.

"She thinks she’s free," I murmur, watching as the last of the bikers collapse into the fire, their screams turning to nothing. "But she isn’t."

She never was.

"And if she doesn’t come back?" Xavier asks, half-mocking, half-curious.

I smile, slow and sharp. A promise.

"Then I will go to her."

One month.

That’s all I gave her.

One month to remember me. To feel the absence of my touch like a phantom, to lie awake at night wondering if I’m watching her—because I am.

She is mine.

And when I take her back, there will be no more running.

No more illusions of escape.

No more mercy.

The fire rages.

And deep inside me—

Something darker burns.

Author’s Note ♡♡

Ahh, Alex is losing it without his Kotenok—and it’s only just begun. Do you think Emily will come back willingly, or will he have to take what's his?

Let me know your thoughts in the comments! And don’t forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter—it means the world to me! ♡

P.S. This is my original work. Please don’t copy or repost! ♡♡