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I shook my head, my stomach sinking with every word Orlov uttered. “Does Armstrong realize that Yuri fucking kidnapped Emmy himself?”
“Nah, Yuri opted to keep that bit of information to himself.”
“Naturally,” Drago said dryly.
“How did you end up working for Armstrong?”
Orlov shrugged. “I knew he’d be keeping tabs on her, so after you motherfuckers shot me, I reached out to him and offered my services. I told him that I could get close to her, monitor her, so when the time came to use her, she’d be easy to access.”
“That’s a pretty fucking dramatic way to get close to her. Disguising yourself and pretending to date her roommate?”
Orlov shrugged. “Armstrong didn’t care what my plan was, as long as it worked. When I saw your ass hanging around her, I figured you were there to protect her, that you knew I’d claimed her and would be coming to get her. Do you have any idea how satisfying it was to be in her room with her, sit next to her, lie on her sheets and breathe in her scent right under your fucking nose?”
My fist flexed as I remembered Emmy telling about Delaney’s “boyfriend” talking to her, hugging her, lying on her bed. The only thing that mollified the fury inside me was Emmy’s complete disinterest in Orlov, no matter which persona he was using. Forcing myself to give him a cold smile, I said, “Yes, I’m well aware of what lying in her sheets is like.”
Orlov’s smug smile dropped away, quickly replaced with a snarl. “Fuck you, Petrov.”
“Why go through all that, though? Why not just stake her out? Or approach her yourself?” Drago asked in puzzlement.
“Because, I needed fucking control. I kept track of her, but she didn’t seem to fucking date anyone. I also wasn’t sure if she’d recognize me if I approached her directly. I’d waited a long time—I needed access to her. Unlimited access. Her stupid roommate provided that. It also allowed me to be close enough to know if Armstrong had any other guys on her. I needed to be the closest so I could get my plan together and make sure I got her away before Armstrong made his move. It fucking sucked because I had to make the Drew cover really work. Armstrong insisted on wiring me, so I had to really act into Delaney and make sure he didn’t realize Emmy was my real target. I knew he was getting ready to use her, which is why I moved on her when I did.”
Even Armstrong knew Orlov was a weaselly, untrustworthy little shit.
Drago leaned against the concrete wall and folded his arms. “Okay, so what are Armstrong’s plans?”
Orlov snorted with obvious belligerence. “You think I’m just going to give it up? What the fuck do I get out of telling you assholes anything?”
Drago looked at me and I knew what he was thinking. We’d have to make a deal with Orlov. The idea sent spirals of anger coursing through me. I wanted to reach into his chest cavity, pull out his heart and crush it in my hand.
“What do you want?” Drago asked blandly.
“I definitely don’t want to be here, that’s for fucking sure.”
Drago nodded. “Okay, you tell us what we want to know about Armstrong and we will let you go.”
Orlov snorted. “You think I’m fucking stupid, Drago? You think I don’t know you’re full of shit? I need some fucking guarantees. You let me go, let me get to a safe place, then I’ll tell you all about Armstrong’s plan.”
I wanted to crush Orlov’s windpipe in my bare hand. “No fucking way.”
Orlov sat back. “Fine, I’ll keep the information to myself and let Emmy fend for herself with Armstrong.”
Drago popped off the wall and shot Orlov a cold smile. “You think those are our only options, Andrei? You think we need to give into your demands to get the information we require? Do you not remember we are the Bratva? Fuck, you used to love to torture motherfuckers. Sure, it would be easier if you gave us the information, but I’m certain Ivan would be more than happy to use other means of persuasion to get you to tell us what we want to know.”
I took a step toward Orlov, nearly frantic to get my hands on him. “Fucking right I am.”
Drago walked to the door and pulled it open. “Maxim, get the tools!” he barked.
Orlov’s mouth tightened and his chest started to rise and fall at an increasing cadence. Maxim entered the room with a box full of knives, blowtorches, clamps and various other tools used to extract information while inflicting the most grievous pain.
Drago shot Ivan a curious look. “It’s strange that you hold such loyalty to Armstrong considering we caught you in the act of betraying him.”
Orlov’s expression tightened in hostility. “I don’t give a fuck about Armstrong. My life isn’t worth dick if I give you all the information and you fucking know it!”
“That’s fucking right,” I muttered, stunned that Orlov thought this would end any other way. He put his hands on Emmy, stalked and terrorized her. This was always going to end in his death. How quickly, well, that depended on him.
Drago pulled out a blow torch and a flint striker out of the box and quickly lit the flame. He walked over to Orlov and yanked his head back, holding the blue flame in front of his face. “You know how we like to do this, Orlov. Now, I personally hate the smell of burned flesh, so I’ll give you one last chance to start talking or we start with the soles of your feet and work our way up. That’s a long motherfucking time to be under the flame with no end in sight.”
Beads of sweat slid down Orlov’s forehead and I doubted they were from the torch. His youthful features were twisted in a look of hatred and fear.
