Isaak’s eyes move between me and the man bound before us.
“What is really going on here?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
He falls silent for a moment.
“I find that difficult to believe,” Isaak says. “A week ago, you would have torn apart anyone who laid a hand on him. Now you’ve got him chained to a wall.”
I turn my head slightly, my eyes narrowing, but offer no response.
“So what’s the reason?” he presses.
“Since when have you become so invested in other people’s business?”
“I haven’t.” Isaak shrugs. “I’m simply trying to make sense of the situation. If the Bratva needs certain doors opened by the Secretary of State for Defence and instead finds his cadaver, I’d like to know how much damage control I’ll be forced to do to keep you out of a grave beside him.”
“You really do make it sound as though you care about me. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be.”
My eyes return to the man chained to the wall.
His chest is bare, covered in bruises and patches of dried blood.
I raise a brow.
“You couldn’t help yourself, I see.”
“You told me to keep him alive,” Ido replies. “No other parameters were provided.”
I make my way towards the wall where an assortment of weapons hangs in rows. I study the selection before choosing a blade.
I pick it up, and without hesitation, I throw it.
It sinks cleanly into his thigh.
He jerks awake with a strangled, bloodied scream.
His eyes remain unfocused at first, dazed, as if he can’t quite make sense of where he is, or who stands before him. Then recognition appears, and with it, hope. The most idiotic emotions a man can have.
I cross the distance between us in a few steps.
“Hunter—” he croaks.
I grip the knife and wrench it free from my father’s leg.
Blood pours from the wound, and he screams again.
I don’t even blink.
“I’m here for answers,” I tell him. “And you’re going to give them to me.”
His eyes clear.
“Is this about that girl?” he spits. “That little—”
My fist connects with his jaw before he can finish. His head snaps to the side, as blood spills from his nose.
