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LORENZO
I’m a good shit talker. When you’re sort of the middle child and then the bitch you fell in love with can give back better than you can dish it, you’re forced to learn ways to get under people’s skin. You also become versed in judging when to hold back. There’s a fine line, and sometimes it’s harder to know when to push than it is at other times.
Right now, I don’t give one fuck. Sokolov is a pussy. Doesn’t want to dirty up his callous-free hands to ram his knuckles into my face. I pegged him real quick. He only likes to exert brute force personally when he knows it’s a sure bet, when he can overpower the his opponent.
I’d bet my life he gets off on hurting women, and likely, a part of it’s because he knows under the facade he’s a weak individual. He finds little playthings he can overpower, and he enjoys breaking them.
Dimitri has a reputation that I see now was embellished. Sure, he’s killed, brutalized and tortured. That’s what he’s been doing for the last few hours, but he gets his goons to do it for him as he watches. He’s all show. The dead eyes are real, but all that proves is there is evil rotting his soul.
I can’t respect a man like that. You have a problem with me, then you face me like a goddamn man. Problem is, he wants something that doesn’t belong to him. He wants someone that he can’t obtain the right way. My marriage isn’t perfect. Neither Sasha nor I will ever be close to perfection. She’ll likely push me to the brink of insanity by the time I’m eighty—if I live that long—but that’s a choice I’d choose every single time. She may be mad at me right now, but I can tell you without a shadow of doubt, she’d choose me too. Sometimes I think I know her better than I know my own self.
Sokolov, on the other hand, does not know a damn thing about my snowflake. If he did, he’d know she can’t be tamed. She’s not a tiger you can cage, or a bird as he likes to refer to her as. I’d love to shove a bird down his motherfucking throat and watch him choke on it, but then that would be cruel to the innocent bird, so a knife will have to do; only I have to get my hands on one. The one buried in the muscle between my shoulder and chest isn’t obtainable at the moment, but as soon as I’m out of these restraints, that’s exactly what I’m going for. Until then, I’m letting my anger supersede the pain radiating from all areas of my body.
I’m never without my leather jacket. I wear it in the middle of summer, but my thoughts were clouded with my hardheaded woman this morning to the point that I walked out of the house without it. I didn’t even realize it until I walked out of the club and right into the path of the enemy. If I would have had my blades on me, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. I didn’t even have the pocketknife that’s always hooked to my pants.
I’m counting on Sasha being with Sienna when Dimitri called her half an hour ago. My sister was instructed to swing by the club when they left Matteo’s parents’ house. The three of us were going to meet up without our not so merry little newly formed family. When Sienna doesn’t find me, she’ll start searching. If she finds my phone, my sister will know something is wrong.
He stared at me with a smirk on his lips the few seconds he was on the phone with my wife. He wanted me to hear, but if he thinks that’s all it’s going to take to screw with my head, he’s a piss-poor judge of character.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I am, but that heaviness in my chest is for Sasha and our newly developing baby. I need her to play this smart. Think before she reacts. Now that she knows she’s pregnant, I need her to realize she’s carrying a life that is far more important than either of ours—especially mine—to protect.
Be smart, baby.
My T-shirt started out white when I pulled it on this morning, but since he had his men grab me, it’s slowly been changing between crimson and a faded-pink color. There are some spots with dirt from when I fell to the ground after being clocked in the temple with the butt of goon one’s gun. My lights were out until we arrived and I woke up with my ankles zip-tied to the chair my ass is currently residing on and my hands clasped together behind my back with what I’m assuming is another zip tie.
I could have broken out of the chair, even snapped the restraints if I had enough adrenaline powering it, but then I’d have three men with automatic weapons to face. I’m not Rambo. I have a better chance at surviving this shit if I bide my time.
“I’m going to gut you like a fish, motherfucker.” I spit blood in the direction of goon one’s shoe. “That’s a fucking promise.”
“Don’t bet money on it, boy. That’s a losing bet by the time the boss is finished with you.”
Bone-crushing force slams into my cheek again. Sokolov’s two men have been taking turns using me for a heavy bag. They’ve punched me, elbowed me, even backhanded me a couple of times. The knife ended up embedded in my flesh by the same man that hit me in the head with this weapon when I told their boss how often Sasha enjoys getting off on my big, thick dick. I used those exact words. I’m pretty sure at some point between blows I told him he could check for himself if he didn’t believe me. That landed me a boot to the face, and faster than lightning my lights were out again for an unknown period of time.
I woke when his phone rang, but I stayed still with my eyes shut, listening to everything and anything I could soak up.
“Mischa did me a favor when he killed my father; saved me from having to kill him myself and upped my timeline. It was a win-win for me.” He laughs out loud. “Once my prize is captured, we’ll take out the rest of the Nikolayevs and the Caputos.” There is a pause the length of two heartbeats. “Then we take over their country. After I’m finished, even your president won’t breathe without begging me for permission. Eventually, we’ll be ready to fight Moscow. It’s all going to be ours, brothers. The whole world will bow to me.”
This motherfucker is delusional. I hope he smoked some heavy shit when he thought up that dumbass plan.
“What about the baby she’s carrying, boss?” one of the men asks, and it takes everything in me not to move a muscle, giving away that I’m awake.
“I have a doctor on standby to rip that bastard out of her. She will carry no one’s child but mine. Once I have my heir, I’ll either dispatch her or toss her to the slum where all my other trash goes. She’s mine until I’m done with her, then everyone can have her, because by the time I’m finished, she’ll be broken, a shell of what she is today.”
