Emperor of Mayhem

95

A/N; This chapter is written in a dual POV. Pay attention to when it switches in point of view. Thank you🤍

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MIKHAIL

"Poor thing," I murmured, a ghostly smile barely lifting the corners of my lips, whilst feeling the horrified eyes of my fellow inmates watching me from the corners.

"I bet it's been such a long time since you drank healthily," each word peeled off my mask of sanity, "Go ahead, feast on. Do that while it lasts. Because I won't be here for long, neither will I return when I'm gone."

And as if the other buzzing mosquitoes in the stinking cell understood my generous, very patriotic offer, more of them danced toward my arm and perched on the tanned skin, and in an instant, I felt multiple stings as they drew more blood from me.

The stares from the inmates intensified.

"Mamma Mia!" one of the inmates who was obviously not Italian, whispered in horror, but somehow, his words rang in my ears, "He is more fucked up in the head than I am."

"From the moment he came in, I knew he wasn't exactly the most normal amongst the rest." Said, another with a thick Russian accent, "He is on another fucking level of madness."

The more they argued about how sane I was, the more vocal they became, and at a point, it started to seem as though they had forgotten I was in the same room with them, that I had healthy ears and could very well hear and understand each comment about me.

Somehow, I became their object of entertainment. As the topic of me talking to mosquitoes dropped, they picked up another, then another, and another, all revolving around me and my group of soldiers.

I didn't have any problem with being a topic of discussion. Whether I was being praised in that discussion or ridiculed, it really didn't matter to me. It was just that, it could get annoying and uncomfortable if I was being discussed right in front of my face. I might suddenly decide to take offense, and I could be very petty sometimes and overdo things.

But these foolish men refused to shut up about my business. They spread my precious name on a table like a card that everyone got to pick.

And every second spent talking about me set fire to the whistling anger in my chest. And I had tried so hard since I found myself in this monstrosity of a uniform, to chain down my emotions and not do something erratic. I even started talking to mosquitoes just so I wouldn't charge at an inmate and squeeze him like a bug just to release the anger I had bottled in since they took me away from my wife.

They really had no clue that I wasn't exactly a gentleman, that I was just holding my demons back because I didn't want to do anything that would add fire to the already burning flame and escalate my charges. Not that it mattered to me if I was sentenced to a few years behind bars though. I would have even taken the years in prison as a mini vacation and whenever I was ready, I would get myself released and go back to my Mafia. I could just sit and let the worst happen. Because I wasn't afraid of the law.

But if I get locked away, what about my wife? My precious little lady, whom I absolutely couldn't do without? I would be as good as a cold and rotting corpse yearning for a lick of sunlight if I ended up behind bars, miles away from my Malyshka.

So I had to be a good boy and lay low until this cup passed me by and I returned home to my woman and my empire.

"Why do you think he was arrested?"

I couldn't help a scoff and an eye roll when the question traveled across the room to me.

"Maybe he raped some girl." one widely guessed. Imagine the audacity. How low did these street urchins think of me?