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Fucking disgusting!
Mikhail turned the light on my prisoners raised their heads, both of them squinting from the sudden light and struggling to break free from the ropes bounding them to their chairs.
Aaron’s eyes met mine. He’d been here since me and Giselle got married two weeks ago. I’d not intended to keep him here for a very long time, but I’d gotten carried away with the Italians and Giselle, who’d forgotten the bastard was still breathing beneath my room floors.
He blinked at me, his eyes misty from fear. “What do you want, man?”
I prowled to him, furrowing my brows so he’d see just how pissed I was. When I reached him, I smiled, and he recoiled in his bondage. I loved the look of fear in my enemies’ eyes when I broke them piece by piece until their resolve crumbled.
But I utterly despised it in Aaron’s eyes. I hated the way he cowered in fear. There was nothing exciting about him, nothing to break. I imagined Giselle must’ve been that terrified when he tried to force himself on her. He could have broken her that night.
I tucked my hand in my pocket and towered above him. “Will you give me what I want if I told you?”
“Listen, man. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I swear I’m not the guy you’re looking for. There must be a mistake somewhere.”
I inclined, leveling my face to his own and smirked. “You’re wrong. You’re just the guy I wanted.”
His breath hitched and tears pooled in his eyes. “Who the hell are you, man?
“You should know since you tried to force yourself on my wife.”
He whimpered and fidgeted. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, man. The only woman I’ve tried to kiss is my girlfriend.”
“You remember me from that night at the club.” I clenched my fingers around the edge of his seat. “I warned you to stay away from her.”
His eyes widened. “Fuck, man. She’s my ex, okay? I broke up with her.” He bit his lips. “The fucking bitch got knocked up by another—”
My fists moved before my brain could think, and my knuckles collided with his jaw. He groaned, and scarlet red bloomed on his lips.
“Your first mistake was trying to rape my woman,” I growled, the anger boiling in my chest threatening to burn right through me. “Your second mistake is talking shit about my wife and child in front of me.”
His eyes bulged as realization dawned on him. “She’s your wife?”
“She should have never met a guy like you.”Punch.“She was far too good for you.”Punch.“You should pay with your life for trying to assault her.”
I rammed my fist into his face, again and again, feeling and hearing the cracking of his bones until his face was covered in bruises and blood. Saliva mixed with blood drooled down his lips, his whimpers making me hungry to punch him again.
As much as I wanted to kill this bastard, his blood was too worthless for me to have on my hands. I stretched my hand to Mikhail, and he placed a blade on it. Sergey gifted me this blade when I was initiated into Bratva twenty-four years ago, at the age of sixteen.
It had the symbol of the Bratva—a hammer and sickle—engraved on the wooden handle, and the stainless-steel spine glinted from the warm white light overhead.
Aaron’s eyes widened in horror, and he struggled against his bondage. Poor guy probably thought he was the Hulk or something. “Please, man. I’ll never go near your girl again, I promise.”
Compared to Sergey, I was more merciful. That didn’t mean I lacked a sense of poetic justice. This scene right here reminded me of that bastard from three years ago, I think his name was Derrick.
I shook my head, it wasn’t in my nature to cut off a man’s tongue, but maybe I could take something in return. “Shouldn’t you give me something to mark your promise?” I pinned the tip of the knife to his cock. “Perhaps this?”
Sweat shined on his forehead. I actually couldn’t believe my ears when he started crying, begging for his life like a cunt. “Spare me, man. You don’t have to do this.”
A psychotic laugh escaped my throat. “Common, man. We both fucking know how important this is. You can’t afford to lose it can you?”
He gave me a slight nod.
I tightened my hand around the knife handle, raised it, and stabbed him right in the balls. His scream echoed in the basement, his body jerking and convulsing from pain.
Grabbing his jaw and digging my fingers in, I forced him to look at me. “I’ll cut it off and feed it to you if you don’t shut the hell up.”
He rolled his lips between his teeth to smother his cries.
