Chapter Two
“Do you know what we do to rats, Peter?” Maxim asked the squirming man tied to the chair.
Peter spat out a wad of blood on the ground, then fixed Maxim and his brother Lev a grotesque smile. Grotesque because once Maxim unleashed Lev on Peter, Peter would need plenty of dental work done.
Only if Peter survived this interrogation, of course. It was unlikely they would allow him to leave this room alive.
The Semenov Bratva made an example of traitors. Every associate who joined their ranks understood the cost for betrayal was death, and it would not be a quick one.
“Do whatever you like to me. I will not betray my employers,” Peter said.
Lev looked at Maxim and raised one brow. He wore a sleek black suit underneath his dirty apron and blue disposable gloves, which were now stained with crimson.
Lev had never been quite right after a childhood incident, which left him permanently scarred for life, both mentally and physically. Their father’s enemies had taken Lev and their mother as prisoners. Only Lev returned alive, but not whole.
Maxim had been born with something vital lacking in him. Lev had been the compassionate one, the gentle soul in their family until Lev’s torturers had carved every goodness out of him and made Lev a little more like Maxim. Heartless.
“It seems we will not find satisfactory answers out of this one,” Maxim told Lev. “It is time to pay Mrs. Lebedev and her two children a visit.”
“Understood,” Lev said with a nod.
After becoming the Pakhan of the family, Maxim seldom needed to do the dirty work, but he insisted on being present for Peter’s interrogation.
Their organization had a strict hiring and vetting process. Maxim did not know how a slime ball like Peter Lebedev had wormed his way through the ranks. After this distasteful task, Maxim would need to have a word with his lieutenants, especially those in charge of hiring new recruits.
“You heartless bastard! You can’t.” Peter looked at Maxim with wide brown eyes filled with terror. He tried the bonds lashing his wrists to the metal chair, but struggling did no good.
He cursed Maxim and Lev, but he soon pleaded and begged.
Maxim had given him to Lev because his brother needed someone new to play with. Maxim, on the other hand, had wanted to test how loyal Peter was to his original employers.
“We have already given you plenty of chances, Peter. Your luck has run out,” Maxim said. “Lev, what are your plans for Peter’s wife?”
Lev walked to the small tray table next to the chair where Peter was strapped and picked up a pristine scalpel.
“I’ll start with this,” Lev said, caressing the blade with the tip of his pale finger.
That was all Lev need to say and do. Over the years, his brother had built quite the reputation.
“The Fedorovs. I work for the Fedorovs,” Peter screamed. Tears filled his eyes. “Please, please don’t hurt my wife and children.”
Maxim nodded to Lev, who put his scalpel down. He looked disappointed. Maxim exited the room. Sweat trickled down his brow. That special windowless room was designed specifically with no proper ventilation.
Lev emerged seconds later. He disposed of his apron and gloves.
“What next?” Lev asked.
“I will leave Peter to you. Find out what other important information he has divulged to the Fedorovs,” Maxim said.
“And what will you do, brother?” Lev asked, his emotionless gray eyes boring into Maxim’s.
Maxim sighed. “I have a funeral viewing to attend.”
Lev nodded. “I heard. The woman you were supposed to marry was killed. I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?” Maxim asked, amused.
Was Maxim sorry Aurora Bianchi was dead? Certainly, but she was a complete stranger to him, a means to an end.