Page 25 of Savage Truce

I glance to my right and see three decomposing male heads hanging from hooks on the ceiling, with no sign of their bodies.

“Full alert,” I order Andrei and my guards. “This is going to go sideways real fucking fast.”

A man comes toward me while the rest gather around. He stops a few feet away and gives a respectful nod. “Pakhan.”

Locking eyes with him, my tone is deep with authority as I bark, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Bogdan Ivanov.”

“Ivanov.” My gaze sweeps over the bloodstained floor and severed heads before settling back on him. “Who gave you permission to attack Yegor’s family?”

“No one.” He squares his shoulders. “It needed to be done. The old blood has to be wiped out before the new can take over. As long as Yegor’s family is alive, there will always be men willing to fight for them.”

“You don’t get to decide what needs to be done.” My voice drops to a deadly calm. “I do.”

A flicker of uncertainty crosses his face before it disappears. “They’re all dead,” he says. “Except one.”

Every muscle in my body goes rigid. “Who?”

For the love of all that’s holy, let it be Yelena.

“Yelena’s daughter,” the dumb fuck answers.

Blyadʹ! Yelena’s death is going to piss off Yegor’s associates something fierce.

My jaw clenches as I process the fact that they have Yegor’s forgotten granddaughter, who’s just become a valuable chess piece to me.

“The fat bitch can cook.” Ivanov shrugs, then he chuckles sadistically. “We’ve had her prepare our meals while starving her.”

“You thought you could decide who lives and dies without my authorization,” I growl, making the grin drop from his face. “Take me to the woman!”

I have to suppress the urge to kill the stupid motherfucker right here and now as I follow him out the back. The instant I take in the pile of decomposing bodies lying a hundred feet or so away, his death warrant is signed, but then my eyes land on a woman who’s curled up in the corner of a fucking animal pen.

The blouse, skirt, and makeshift bandage around her left calf are all filthy, and her blond hair is matted.

Just as I glance over the bruises marring her arms and legs, Ivanov unlocks the gate and barks, “Come!”

It takes a moment before she lethargically lifts her head. Gaunt from starvation, with collarbones jutting beneath the filthy blouse, she looks too weak to stand.

Another second passes before I recognize her, and my breath leaves me in a sharp exhale as I stare at Anastasia.

Iisus Khristos!

For five fucking years, I wondered where she disappeared to after she never showed up outside the theater. I searched until every lead went cold, eventually forcing myself to accept I would never see her again.

I fucking mourned her.

The vibrant, curvy woman who stole my heart in a single night is Yegor’s estranged granddaughter, and these fuckers have reduced her to someone I barely recognize.

Rage begins to vibrate deep in my chest, threatening to erupt from me like a volcano spewing lava.

Anastasia looks at me for a moment, then her features crumble, and she whimpers, “You… finally… found me.”

My heart clenches painfully, and something ugly creeps out of the dark depths of my soul. It wants revenge for what was done to the only woman who’s ever been able to capture my attention.

Her head lolls to the side as she struggles to keep her eyes open.

I was angry because the stupid fucks wiped out Yegor’s family, but seeing what they’ve done to Anastasia robs me of every ounce of self-control I possess.