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“One of the construction sites was hit last night,” Natasha replies. “The damage was extensive, and two civilian guards were tortured and killed.”
My skin tightens on my bones. Civilian casualties are frowned upon, but a civilian being tortured is against the rules of the Bratva. “Were our men killed?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “The bomb went off in the middle of the night, but the police are investigating. We couldn’t keep them away this time.”
My voice is low and cold while tossing off my jacket. “Let’s start. String him up.”
Natasha steps forward, but I hold out my hand to stop her. I want to see if Pasha can handle it. He has no tattoos. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t killed, but my concern is will he do what I tell him to do? Pasha grips the hook attached to the beam above and pulls it down easily, slipping the ropes around the man’s bound hands over it. He walks over to the thick rope hanging off the pulley and easily hoists the man into the air until his toes barely touch the concrete floor.
The man’s head hangs down, but I recognize him. It’s one of Sonya’s men. His unkempt hair is disheveled and slick with sweat. He wears a tattered undershirt and ripped jeans that hang awkwardly on his scrawny frame. His feet are bare and covered in dirt, and he looks exhausted and beaten.
“Sonya Igorovna ought to be here, Andrei,” Natasha whispers. “This man is her property, not yours.”
I silence her with a foul look and focus on my trapped prey. I feel no compassion as I embrace the hatred that has made me ruthless. I use the tip of my finger to lift his grubby chin, and his blurry eyes barely focus on me. “I hear you still talk to your old friends. Or should I say, my enemies.”
“Nyet!” His words come out in gasps. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Do you know what I hate more than a traitor?” I lean in close to him, whispering. “A fucking liar.”
He doesn’t answer me, so I grab his filthy hair and hold his head up by the roots. “What areyou?” I sneer. “No answer? Well, I know one thing, you’re stupid if you lie to me.”
I let his head drop onto his chest and look at the steel briefcase on the table. All the old tools are still there, and I’ll put them to use. Pasha flips open the top of the case, and the man’s eyes widen when he sees the sharp instruments lined up inside.
“We have a nickname for this case,” I smirk. “We call it ‘the dentist.’ You gave information to Gleb Novikov. He knows the name of my clean business partner. Information that no one should know, least of all my enemy.”
“No,” the man moans. He breathes harder, the sweat dripping off his forehead onto the floor. “It wasn’t me.”
“Then who?” I ask tolerantly.
The man is silent again and drops his chin.
I lift a thin stiletto from the case and place the end on my fingertip. The blood comes quickly as I watch it prick my skin. I place it under his chin, pushing until he lifts his head. His eyes are wild as a thin line of his blood stains the cuff on my white shirt.
“A name,” I hiss.
“No.” His face pales underneath the dirt. “Fuck you, Barinov. Make it quick.”
His bravery only angers me. I grip his chin, forcing his jaw open. With skill, I place the blade in his mouth between his tongue and palate and slowly drive it in.
The man starts to struggle, but if he makes the wrong move … “No,” he tries to speak. “I was Gleb’s driver, not his guard. I was there when …”
I lower the blade. “When what?”
“The first wedding when your father was shot.”
“Ancient history. What else have you seen?” I ask.
“The cop!” he screams. “He shot the cop! Please, I’m telling the truth!”
Appeased, I stare into his terrified eyes. “So, it wasn’t Talia. Was it a set-up? Did Talia have anything to do with it?”
He stares back at me; his eyes flutter as the sweat falls into them. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, I slash a long line through his shirt, and it hangs off his chest. “Talia only wanted to scare you,” he gasps. “If she hadn’t, you would’ve died with your father.”
“Talia controlling my life again,” I mutter, and he’s stupid enough to answer.
“She wants your wife to leave you,” he says. “And she left you. You bastard.”
“Leave my wife out of this!”
