THE EDGE OF DEFIANCE

Russo's POV

The moment I uttered the words, “Kill her,” I watched Cleopatra closely, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

Fear?

Yes, she had every reason to be afraid. But what I was truly interested in was how she would respond when her world was ripped away from her.

Would she crumble, beg, or perhaps fight back? I was damn curious.

To my satisfaction, she didn’t disappoint. Her initial shock, the disbelief that flickered in her wide, tear-filled eyes, was quickly overtaken by defiance. A defiance that, had it come from anyone else, would have been amusingly naive. But from Cleopatra, it was something far more intriguing.

When she laughed in my face, mocking the very idea that she could be forced into such a situation, I felt a sliver of respect for her. It takes a certain kind of person to laugh in the face of danger, to try and reclaim some sense of control when it’s being ripped away from them. That was something I could admire, even if only a little.

But then again, admiration and pity were not emotions I indulged in often. They were weaknesses in my line of work, in the world I had inherited. What I needed from her was submission, willingness to bend, to break if necessary, and ultimately to do as I commanded.

When I finally approached her, kneeling down so our faces were merely inches apart, I could see the mixture of emotions swirling in her eyes, fear, anger and confusion. I felt a twinge of pity, but I quickly squashed it. This wasn’t the time to be soft.

I signaled to one of my men, a hulking figure named Viktor who was known for his brutal efficiency. Without a word, he stepped forward, holding a small, rusted metal pipe in one hand and a vial of acid in the other. The silence was suffocating as he walked towards Cleopatra, his footsteps echoing off the wet pavement.

Viktor stopped just inches from her, holding out both objects as if they were gifts. “Choose,” he said coldly. “Metal or acid. Which one would you prefer to die with?”

Cleopatra’s eyes widened in horror, darting from the pipe to the acid and then back to me. The disbelief on her face was almost palpable, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. The reality of the situation was a noose tightening around her neck, but she wasn’t ready to surrender just yet.

“This is insane,” she finally spat, her voice trembling with anger and she freed herself from the hold of the men. “You’re all insane! I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, Russo.”

I folded my arms across my chest, maintaining my composure even as her words bit into me. “You asked for this, Cleopatra. You practically begged me to kill you. Now that I’m giving you a choice, you’re complaining?”

Her face twisted with fury. “Don’t you dare twist my words. I never asked for this. I said I’d rather die than marry you, and I meant it! But this… this is barbaric!”

“Barbaric?” I exclaimed in surprise. The word hung in the air like a slap to the face. A part of me bristled at the insult, the way she so easily dismissed the power I held over her was crazy. My hand twitched at my side, but I kept my expression cold and unreadable.

“You’re a monster,” Cleopatra continued, her voice rising. “You think you can control people with fear and violence, but that doesn’t make you powerful, it makes you pathetic.”

“Pa… what?” I stuttered in disbelief.

“You heard it right, pathetic!” Cleopatra confirmed with pride. “P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C”

I felt the sting of her words more deeply than I expected as she spent out the words, a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in years. My pride was literally wounded, and I would never let her go scot-free. Without a word, I took the vial of acid from Viktor, its contents sloshing dangerously inside. I could see Cleopatra’s eyes follow my movements, fear flashing across her face as I uncapped the vial, letting the sharp, acrid smell fill the air.

“Is this what you want?” I asked, my voice low and deadly. I moved closer to her, close enough that she could feel the heat of my body, the acid’s fumes stinging her nose. She recoiled, turning her head away, but I grabbed her chin, forcing her to face me. “Do you see what happens when you push me too far?”

I could see the defiance in her eyes falter, replaced by raw fear. But she wasn’t done fighting, not yet.

“You think this scares me, huh?” she hissed, her voice wavering. “You think I’ll beg for my life? You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind your power.”

The last shred of my patience snapped. I grabbed the gun from Viktor’s holster, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I raised it into the air and pulled the trigger, the deafening crack of the gunshot tearing through the night. Cleopatra flinched; her eyes wide with shock as she realized just how close she was to the edge.

“Say one more word and I wouldn't hesitate to send you off to see your parents,” I blurted angrily.

The sound of the gunshot brought her aunt and her daughter rushing out of the house, their faces pale with fear. Lydia’s eyes widened when she saw me standing over Cleopatra, the gun still smoking in my hand.

“Please, Mr. Russo,” Lydia begged, her voice trembling as she approached. “Have mercy on her. She’s just a child; she doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’ll marry you; I promise. Just give her time. I'll talk to her, and she would definitely listen.”

“Childish?” Cleopatra’s voice cut through the tension, her anger burning hotter than ever. “If this is your idea of mercy, then you can let him have Ella instead!”

Lydia’s face twisted with rage at Cleopatra’s words, and before anyone could react, she stepped forward and slapped Cleopatra hard across the face. The sound of the slap echoed, and Cleopatra’s head snapped to the side, her cheek already reddening from the force of the blow.

“How dare you!” Lydia seethed, her voice dripping with venom. “After everything I’ve done for you, you dare speak to me like that? You and your mother were nothing but curses on this family!”

“Don't speak of my mother with those filthy mouth of yours” Cleopatra fired back almost immediately.

“After everything you've done?” She scoffed, pausing to catch her breath. “What exactly have you done that I should be grateful for other than torment me”

Lydia paused for a while, frozen by the sudden outburst, she turned to me, her eyes twisting with anger. “Do whatever you want with her, Mr. Russo. As of today, she’s no longer a Benson.”

I watched Lydia stormed back into the house, with Ella following closely behind with a mocking smirk on her face. Cleopatra stood there, stunned, her eyes brimming with tears she fought to keep them from falling. I examined her closely, waiting for the next move, the next plea, the next defiant outburst. But all I saw was the quiet resignation of someone who had lost everything.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” I said, my voice cold as I took a step closer to her, the gun still in my hand. “You made your choice, Cleopatra. Now live with it.”

For a moment, she didn’t move, her body trembling as she processed what had just happened. But then, slowly, she raised her eyes to meet mine, the fire in them dimmed but not entirely extinguished.

“Say that you’ll be mine and I'll spare you” I demanded, my voice low and controlled.

“Russo,” Cleopatra called softly, moving close to me. She leaned in and took her mouth to my ear. “Do whatever you want,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I have nothing left to lose.”