oris growls, feeling anger as he curses his wife. There is no reason she should ever be allowed pleasure. She had the nerve to rob him of the only thing that ever mattered to him. An heir, a male heir who would be a strong reminder of his strength and lineage. He had been away at a very important meeting when he had commanded her to hold off on the birth.
She had to endure just a day longer; he had to be there for the birth of his son. They would not induce labor or use any chemical to mask pain or suffering. Child warriors are born to suffer and to be held, preserved in their father's arms upon birth. But his wretched wife couldn't even do that.She couldn't endure and wait for his son as he had to. He had waited a lifetime for sons, a man he could groom in his image. Instead, his wife was unable to sacrifice herself for his needs. His hair, his hope, his son died in childbirth because she wasn't strong enough."Mira, did you see her?" Boris growls to his wife. "Yes, she is doing well," Alexandra, Mira's mother, answers."Well!? Really? She is a girl on a leash. She is no more than a dog. A pet to do as he pleases.""She is healthy, protected, and loved. You were the one who treated her like the dog, Boris! Wanting to put her out to stud to get a male grandson who could carry on the name." Alexandra says as she steps away quickly as his hand lashes out at her, barely catching her dress.He fumbles to grab her, tackle her, and make her pay for her insolence. Pushing the chair forward, he tries to strike against her and falls forward. Fumbling, grasping for anything, he reaches out to hold a case tumbling down into him. Cursing and crying from anger being stuck, he hates this moment, hates his wife and his daughter. They are the reason he is this broken of a man."Viktor!" Boris cries out his curse to the demon that destroyed his life."Boris, hush, we can't...""Don't you dare tell me to hush woman! I am not Viktor's whore!" He screams as spit spills from his mouth.He hates this damn estate. He hates everything it represents and has become. He was better off before he began to engage in the black market trade of arms. When he could easily see the build-up of arms before wars were wanted, it became easy for him to tell when to create artificial shortages to raise fuel costs.Thrashing on the group, he hates how helpless he is. He wishes he was armed, as he would kill his wife and his daughter. They belong to him but were stolen. He tried to give them up in exchange for his life as a way to find himself pardoned for past mistakes. But no, they were taken, but still, he was destroyed and cast aside.Viktor disgusted him the moment he first saw him interact with his daughter. He picked her up as if she was a child, and at the time, she was, but she had the innocence of youth of being locked away. She was virginal and pure to be traded like a common stock to find a house worthy of their investment.He tries to grab the chair, but to his fury, Alexandra pulls it from him. Growling and cursing the Gods, he foams at the mouth with saliva as he watches his daughter and her Master approach. Boris's anger gets the best of him, and he thrashes in pure hatred of everything they represent.Boris laughs as his daughter shies away from him. She can't even look to see what she has done to him—what her mother had done when they refused to greet Viktor with their attention to distract him from his goal. They both failed him a decade ago for refusing to sacrifice themselves for him. Boris turns his head and spits at Mira, laughing as it strikes her. He has his victory as she is marked forever as being cast out. Spit upon by the only man who could give her any self-worth. Looking up at Viktor momentarily, Boris is afraid by the look in his eyes. He loses control of his bowels and feels his pants wet the moment Victor lets out a single command."Pliers," Viktor's voice echoes in the room to only the sound of Boris's heartbeat.