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I know exactly what I’m doing.
Too bad this idiot doesn’t.
The traitor finally breaks when Melchior uses his body for muay thai practice with several shin kicks to his jaw. When a second tooth rips from the socket, Haoyang finally pleads for mercy.
I’m surprised he’s lasted this long. He’s a tech mastermind for fuck’s sake, used to sitting in front of multiple screens for hours at a time in a tiny, dark room rather than involved in any sort of physical work. From his scrawny form, he doesn’t look like he goes to the gym in his spare time either.
It may be Christmas now, but I’m already planning for the holiday season in three years. We control the two hundred-billion-dollar gaming industry to ensure we produce every year’smust havesystem or games. And this stupid moron leaked our new platform for a measly ten million bucks. What an imbecile.
“Back up M. He’s ready to spill.”
His guts, I mean. Haoyang’s already lost enough blood to pass out. I need him talking, not unconscious.
My brother bounces from side to side, keyed up and eager to keep using this guy as his practice dummy for his upcoming match.
“I was just starting to have some fun.”
I roll my eyes. If he loved this business as much as he loves his damn MMA, my life would be a hell of a lot easier.
I turn my attention back to the sellout. His chin rests on his chest but he’s moaning so I know he’s awake. I ask him the same question as before. “Who?”
“Pavel.”
Motherfucker.
Stupid Russian thinks since he lives closer to the North Pole than us, he gets to be Santa. Not fucking happening.
Haoyang gags from the effort of confessing, coughing up some black slime so nasty I want to vomit myself. He’s not long for this world.
For seven years, we’ve treated him well and paid him like a king. All that time he’s been a hundred percent loyal, so I need to know what made him turn on us. “Why did you do it?”
A tremor jolts his body. He’s getting ready to seize. “Tell me.”
“My…my mother. She’s sick. She…she’s dying.”
Bullshit.
I know everything about my top programmer, and his mom is fine, living in a luxurious three-bedroom apartment in a modern high-rise rather than the squalor like most of the population in her province.
Trying to play the sympathy card to a man who knows everything is stupid.
Lying about death to a man who endured his own mother wasting away is fatal.
I lightly smack his bloodied cheek. “You deserve this.”
I nod to Melchior. His face lights up with the brutality that would scare most men.
“Thank you, brother.”
His deep voice roars with gratitude. He’s a man of few words literally and with those three uttered, he begins his assault again.
With that problem taken care of, I head out. The sound of another bone breaking accompanies me as I jog upstairs from the dungeon to one of our most lucrative factories. Ironic the gourmet chocolatier above hides the torture chamber below. I breathe deep but the rich flavor doesn’t satisfy me the way Seraphina’s sweet scent does.
It’s two in the morning but I don’t care.
I want her.
Only my brother’s SUV is parked in the back lot making it easy to navigate the alley and hit the highway. Zero cars pass me for the first five minutes enroute to her apartment. Not that I’d let anyone slow me down. I’m on a mission to get to my girl.
