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Only the anger would keep me going. There was no time for weakness. I pushed the image of Ayla frightened and hurt, Maddie bleeding and close to death, to the back of my mind.
Viktor was waiting for me in front of the door, his expression fierce. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. One of our own betrayed us. Someone we trusted and treated as a brother.
But we couldn’t dwell on that betrayal now. There was no time for it. Our only purpose was to get answers and find Ayla.
Viktor opened the door, and I walked inside, my stride confident and purposely. Slow even through my anger.
Artur was tied to a chair, facing me. His head was cast down, but I knew he heard me come in. The way his body tightened gave him away.
Nikolay was standing behind him, a murderous look on his face.
I walked forward, stopping just two feet away from Artur. The room was filled with silence. No words were uttered, but the air was heavy and tensed. Almost suffocating.
I let the silence drag for a few more minutes. Artur grew more tense. It was all a game, a game of dominance, and in that moment, I held the power and Artur was just a pawn.
When I felt myself barely hanging on the thin thread of control, I moved forward. I’d give him credit. He didn’t move or flinch.
Grabbing his chin, I raised his head. He stared at me blankly, completely void of emotion. Fueled by deep hatred and anger, I pulled back and punched him. I heard his nose crunch under the force of my knuckles.
I craved his scream, his blood. When he didn’t make a sound, I punched him again, harder than before. There was a very satisfying sound. Another broken bone. This time he winced, his eyes shutting tight in pain.
I grabbed his throat and squeezed, watching him fight for his breath. His face turned a shade of red and then purple. The cells broke across his skin, tiny red dots as his wide eyes stared at me in panic.
The whites of his eyes turned red as he suffocated under my grasp. His pupils enlarged, and I smiled, watching him struggle for his life, for another gasp of air.
The corner of his mouth was swelling, and there was a laceration over his cheekbone. His nose was already swelling, turning an ugly shade of green.
I pressed my fingers just a little harder, feeling his windpipe. He choked against the pressure building in his throat as it traveled up into his face.
I fought against the urge to laugh at his suffering.
Ayla was suffering because of him. She was innocent, yet paying for something she didn’t deserve. All because of this man in front of me. Whatever was going to be handed to him would never be enough. I would never be satisfied.
When I saw Artur’s eyes rolling back into his head, I pressed one more time before releasing him. His head fell forward, and he coughed dangerously, desperately gasping for his next breath.
His whole body shook with the effort to take in as much air as he could.
When I noticed him getting in control of his labored breathing, I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. I held his neck against the back of the chair and glared.
“Why?” I simply asked.
One word. One question. Artur was one of my men. He understood how I worked. He understood what I wanted without even asking.
I thought the betrayal would hurt. It did hurt, but I was mostly consumed by anger. The fury clouded my vision and every other emotion.
I had to find Ayla, and Artur was my only hope. The thought of her being in danger and hurt because of someone I trusted sent a wave of pain through my body.
Was it my fault? It was a constant thought in my mind, something that slowly killed me every day since she was taken from me.
“Why the fuck did you do it?” I snarled into his face. He didn’t flinch, but the way his eyes darted to the side betrayed his fear and pain. I knew my gaze promised violence and revenge. My voice shook with it.
When he didn’t answer, I punched him again, quickly losing my patience. “Answer me!”
There was a gash next to his eye, and he winced when my punch landed on it. It looked like Nikolay had already done a number on him.
I looked down at my hand and saw his blood. I wasn’t wearing my gloves, and in that moment, I didn’t want to. I wanted to see his blood on my hands, knowing that he was suffering and in pain.
At the thought of Ayla, I landed another furious punch on his face. I felt my jaw tighten and heard my teeth grinding together. If I could, I would string him up by his fucking intestines for what he had done.
