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I spat at him. “Fuck you, Yuri.”
Yuri’s eyes widened, and a smile stretched over his yellowed teeth. “Ah, there’s the tough bitch I was expecting.”
I left this world ten years ago because I didn’t want to be tough in all of the ways I’d have to be in order to survive. And yet, here I was once again, terrified and alone in the face of a cruel captor.
“I’ll enjoy quenching that fire,” Yuri murmured as he sliced a straight cut down the center of my chest, from my collarbone to the bottom of my breasts.
I held back a terrified whimper, but barely. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to pretend I was the type of woman who could spit in his face and bravely undergo torture.
“Please, you don’t need to do this,” I whispered, knowing my words would fall on deaf ears.
Yuri ignored me, running his finger down the stinging cut, smearing the blood. He pulled out the camera and snapped another photo. “Those boys of yours are going to lose their shit.”
After what felt like hours,I was a mess. Once the knife dug in deep, I couldn’t hold back my tears. Yuri carefully documented every moment of agony, every yelp of pain, as he bruised and sliced my skin, seeking to maximize the visibility of my misery for the photographs he sent my men and my father.
When the giant of a man behind Yuri offered me a sip of water, I jerked my face away, wary of the kindness.
“Drink,” Yuri commanded. “You’ll eat too, when it’s offered. I want you to be alive and awake as I break you into pretty little pieces.”
I blanched at the threat, but obediently opened my mouth and allowed him to tilt the bottle against my lips, wetting my parched throat. When the giant man held up a protein bar to my lips, I nibbled at it, gagging as my stomach roiled.
A brutal slap from Yuri stopped the nausea in its tracks. “None of that, bitch. You better keep this food and water down.”
The protein bar tasted like sawdust, but I forced myself to swallow, ignoring the urge to puke it up with the water I’d just finished. Satisfied, Yuri and the giant stepped back.
“Now,” Yuri said. “We wait.”
He flicked off the light bulb that swung above my head, leaving only the thin gray light that filtered through the film of grime on the skylights. I found myself once again alone, with only the sounds of the city to keep me company. The copper smell of dried blood filled my nose, and I finally allowed myself to cry, regretting every choice I’d made since I’d answered Sofia’s call a week before.
31
RIAN
Iwas exhausted. We all were. None of us had slept in over twenty-four hours, but the photos Yuri kept sending of our girl fueled the fire of our determination to get her back. A frisson of guilt wormed its way through my chest. Ginevra would be safe and whole right now if we’d never insisted on this stupid fucking marriage with Sofia in the first place.
Nikolai asked for a meeting in neutral territory. I believed him when he swore he wasn’t behind the fires or the kidnapping. It didn’t make sense for him to do this, not when we’d already initiated the transfer and laundering of the ten million dollars that Antonio owed him. We hadn’t bothered torturing his enforcer or his accountant, just roughed them up enough to make them uncomfortable. They both thought Yuri Semenov was behind the kidnapping.
Fuck.
Yuri had been a wildcard for a long time, a brutal enforcer who’d worked his way up the Bratva through violence and a few brilliant real estate moves that netted the organization millions. We should have known he’d snatch Ginevra when we heard he was out for her blood. God, we should have protected her better.
Adam Zhang watched us with amusement as I strode into the room, Liam and Cormac following behind me. I bet he hadn’t expected to find himself so quickly elevated to mediator between the two biggest gangs in the city. Ginevra liked him, though. As sentimental as it was, her opinion counted for a lot right now. He’d arranged a meeting in one of his restaurants, a high end loss leader that he’d emptied for us.
I grasped his hand warmly. “Thank you,” I said.
Zhang looked at me, his hooded brown eyes sharp and calculating. “War is terrible for everyone’s business.” He jerked his head toward the table. “But especially new businesses without strong historic ties to the community, like mine.”
That it was, but if that’s what it took to bring Ginevra back to us, I’d burn the fucking city down. All three of us would, without hesitation.
Antonio was already there, joined by Lorenzo. We took our seats together, to the left of Lorenzo. Nikolai arrived accompanied by two Bratva captains I knew only by reputation.
“Yuri and a dozen of my soldiers have disappeared,” Nikolai began abruptly.
Antonio’s eyes shot up to his hairline. “A dozen? How the fuck do you lose a dozen soldiers?”
“More than a dozen,” I corrected. “There’s no way Yuri’s holed up somewhere with Ginevra and lighting fires all over the city with only a dozen men. What the fuck is going on in your house, Nikolai?”
The head of the Bratva narrowed his sky-blue eyes. “Upstart,” he said, dismissing me. I swallowed the fury that burned through me. I’d worked my whole goddamned life to build an empire in this city, and today, my holdings were worth more than his and the Russos’ combined. But because I was Irish-American, because we had built our wealth in the twenty-first century, instead of over generations of illicit trade, I was less worthy.
