I assess him coldly, trying to mark any weaknesses with him chained there like a fucking dog. He isn’t green, that’s for damn sure. I can see the years in his eyes, the scars running along his hands and arms. He’s been in the Bratva for a while, and he isn’t going to break so easily now.
“A bit drafty in here, isn’t it?” I ask just as the door slams shut behind me. We both hear the audible click of the automatic lock.
“Feels like home,” the Russian growled. His eyes never leave me, watching me as if he’s the predator and I the prey. He’s an idiot if he thinks that, but I let him underestimate me. More fun for me later.
“Aw, come on. Russia isn’t completely a freezing wasteland.” I stalk closer, stopping just in front of him but I stay standing rather than getting down to his level. “There’s got to be more there than just cold balls and ugly bastards like you.”
Edik’s lip curls into a sneer. “You should visit sometime. We have nice body bags.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule.” I circle him slowly. He stays facing forward, trying to show me just how unbothered he is with me at his back. The man had more scars than he had hair on his head. Brute force wouldn’t break him.
“You immigrated to the US six years ago, correct?”
Edik hesitates, surprised, but he doesn’t reply.
“You have a nice little family, Edik. One you try your best to keep off the grid, no?” This time, he lets out a low growl.
“Your threats won’t work,” he sneers. “The Pakhan will care for my family when I am gone.”
“If he can find them.”
Edik stills, my words sinking in.
“Your wife is so sweet. And your daughter is just absolutely charming. They were so hospitable to my men when they came knocking.” I keep talking, watching for his reaction. Stepping in front of him again, I smirk. “It would be tragic if anything happened to them.”
“You’re bluffing.” He tries to sound unconcerned, but his eyes blaze up at me with a promise—one that probably involves a body bag from Russia.
I sigh, taking out my phone. They never believe me. Pulling up the latest image, I show him the screen. His wife is tied to a chair in their living room, my men in the background. His daughter is nowhere in the photo. She was taken to her room to play with dolls with Lucius.
Edik’s face pales, more sweat breaking out along his skin. His breathing goes shallow as the tiniest bit of fear finally appears. “My daughter?”
“Having a lovely tea party with one of my guys. She’s been a very good girl,” I tell him honestly. His shoulders relax just a bit. “Tell me what I need to know, and they’ll live.” Can’t say the same for him, though. But, like he said, I’m sure the Pakhan will take excellent care of his family if he’s found dead.
Just when I think I have him, his gaze hardens. “They’re dead either way. Either you’ll kill them if I refuse to cooperate, or the Pakhan will when I do.”
Well, damn.
Edik straightens, a look I don’t like slipping across his face. “How is your little fiancée? What’s her name? Cara?”
And just like that, I’m torn from the cold haze of the hunt. Snarling, I dart forward. Edik doesn’t make a sound as my fist connects with his nose. An audible crack echoes around the room. Blood drips down his lips as he grins.
“We know something you do not,” Edik says slowly, making sure I understand every fucking syllable. “About your fiancée and her father. They’re probably having a good laugh behind your back right now.”
“You’re not even a brigadier,” I snarl. “What would you know?”
“More than you, apparently.”
I hit him again. And again. My knuckles split, mixing with the blood from his face. It splatters across my shirt, turning the pristine white to scarlet. And Edik just laughs.
I step back, breathing hard as rage thrums through me. Hearing her name broke through any defenses I’d thought I had. I can’t escape her. Not even in here. And I just let him know it.
“Letting a woman play you….” Edik spits, blood splattering across the floor at my feet. “How pathetic.”
My gun is out before I can even think about it. With a bang, the bullet lodges in his skull, the laughter dying on his blood-flecked lips.
“Shit.” I toss the gun aside. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Dante is not going to be happy. I just took out one of the few sources of information we’d been able to get. I turn away from his body as blood drips to the floor. The door opens, and Niccolo stands there, trying to keep the surprise from his face. I stalk towards him, ripping the buttons from my shirt as I tear it off and toss it to him. I snatch my jacket, slinging it over my shoulders.