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“Dimi’s not coming?” I questioned.

“He’ll be here later.”

Kas nodded to our guest. “Has he talked?”

Mak’s lips curled into a viscous grin. “Oh. Was I supposed to ask? Damn. I knew I forgot something.”

When it involved an enemy, my head of security was ruthless. It was one of the many reasons why I’d chosen him. On the other end of the spectrum, if you were loyal, Mak would shield you with his life. He’d witnessed Pru’s pain and personally felt responsible for not keeping her safe. What was happening in this room was his way of getting atonement for the wrongs done to her. I would not stop him.

“You're sick.”

“Not sick, Kas. I’m efficient. There’s a difference.”

“We need a name,” I spoke to no one in particular. “Machail didn’t have the brain power to be working alone.”

“All right.” Mak took off his watch and handed it to me. I knew what that meant. Things were about to get messy. “Playtime’s over.”

He moved to a corner table, grabbed something I couldn’t see and shoved it into his front pants pocket, then picked up a hammer by the handle. I didn’t have to know what he’d hidden to understand the next few minutes were going to test my ability to keep my lunch from making a reappearance. The king of hearts may be the most empathetic of the four of us, but he was also the most lethal.

“Hold his feet flat to the floor.”

Rurik and Luka each grabbed a leg, following their captain’s order without hesitation. Mak dropped to his haunches in front of our prisoner, at the same time he withdrew a handful of three-inch silver nails from his pocket. He positioned one in the center of Adrian’s left foot, then brought the hammer down. Literally.

A high pitched scream filled the air, quickly followed by the foul stench of urine.

“Oh, fuck,” Kas chuckled beside me.

“Christ. I don’t know which one of you is worse.”

Blood mixed with the puddle of piss expanding in front of Makari. He ignored both, repeating the process to man’s right foot.

“Him. Definitely him.”

Chapter 4

Talk To Me Goose

Prudence

I woke up my first morning at rehab and found a letter waiting for me at the reception desk. Clearly, Zak didn’t grasp the concept of using the post office.

Moya koroleva,

The hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life was driving away from you today. I miss you. God, I miss you, and it’s only been three hours. Thirty days will be a challenge. I’d like to use our time apart to get to know each other on a more personal level. You know Zak, the businessman who sits behind a desk sixty plus hours a week, but you haven’t been formally introduced to Zakhar…not really. So here goes nothing.

I was born in Saint Petersburg. When I was two, my father moved Mom and me to Philadelphia for our safety. The Bratva presence in the City of Brotherly Love was strong. As the sole heir to a powerful family, I was on the top rung of a ladder where money and status meant the difference between survival and extinction. That’s where I met Kasimir, Makari, and Dimitri. Their families pledged allegiance to mine. From that point on, we were inseparable.

We trained together.

We bled together.

We became lethal together.

When I was seventeen, my parents were in Russia on business. They were murdered, and I became an orphan. My heart grew cold with hatred. The only air I breathed was vengeance. Destroying the man who ordered their deaths became my sole purpose. But my path nearly cost Kasimir his life. Without divulging that story, because it isn’t mine to share, just know it was a turning point for the Vlaschenko family. The four of us will always be connected with the Bratva because of our pasts, but the Bratva doesn’t control us. While there are aspects of our businesses which teeter in the gray, most have been completely legitimized. We chose our own destiny.

Pru, you’ll never know how sorry I am that you were dragged into my mess, but please don’t misinterpret my feelings for guilt. I’ve been lost to you for some time. It just took nearly losing you to finally be able to admit it, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe from here on out.

I think you’ve had enough of a history lesson for one day. Have I scared you away? Twenty-nine days to go.