I sigh heavily and force a bite into my mouth, almost gagging. “Did Valery send you down here?”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t say his name.”
“Why not? Because he’s your boss?” I arch a brow.
This guy is an inexperienced soldier of the bratva and if I play this right, I’ll get the answer I’m looking for.
“Because I fucking said so. Valery doesn’t send food to prisoners. He’s above that.”
Internally, I smirk, as it’s clear that this man is part of the Morozov Bratva. “And where is he?”
“Stop asking questions and eat,” he barks, eyes flashing with irritation, but he doesn’t fill me with fear, not like Valery did.
Valery Morozov has something about him, an air of intimidation just by walking into a room. I expected less from the man that my father speaks so lowly about, as if he’s nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
“I need to speak with him.”
The man growls then, shaking his head. “You don’t get to make demands. You are a prisoner. It’s as simple as that.” His fists clench. “And if you don’t shut up, I’ll beat the questions out of you.”
I sense that it’s an idle threat from the look in his eyes, as he’s not authorized to lay a hand on me. Even so, I decide not to push my luck any further. Valery Morozov will return and when he does, I’ll offer him the only thing I can, a way to infiltrate my father’s operations and bring them down from the inside.
I don’t care if he loses everything, as he won’t care whether I live or die, so the only one looking out for me is myself. I eat the floor scrapings reluctantly with renewed hope, knowing that if Valery can listen to reason, I may get out of here in one piece after all.
4
VALERY
“Sir, we’ve had a response from Grigory and it’s not good,” Konstantin announces as he walks into my study without knocking.
I glare at him. “Did I say you could walk in here as if it’s your living room?”
His expression drops and he bows his head. “No, sorry, sir.”
I click my fingers and gesture for him to come forward. “What has happened?”
“Grigory has put out a price on your head. Dead or alive.” He slaps a flyer down on my desk and Grigory has found a photo of me that’s on the front with a reward of three thousand US dollars.
“No mention of the return of Anya?” I confirm.
He shakes his head. “From the research I’ve done, I believe Stepan was correct. Grigory isn’t too bothered about his daughter’s welfare.”
“Motherfucker.” I slam my fist into my hardwood desk. “What does that mean for us?”
Konstantin’s jaw works. “It means that we’ve just declared war with the Lebedev Bratva.”
I nod in response. “Warn the men as we’ll be under fire. Ensure any men that are considering taking the reward money think again if they want to survive the rest of this week.”
“Of course. Is there anything else?”
I shake my head. “No, that’s all.” I wave my hand toward the door, expecting him to leave. When he doesn’t move, I narrow my eyes. “Is there a problem?”
Konstantin’s nostrils flare. “Have you considered offering her back as a peace offering?”
The mere suggestion that I would consider backing down at the first sign of push back enrages me, but it’s not the only prospect that angers me. It’s the idea that I would let such a beautiful prize escape so easily, without a fight or something of value in return.
Ever since I set my eyes on Anya Lebedev yesterday evening, I haven’t been able to think of anything else but those alluring crystal blue eyes.
“What do you take me for, Konstantin?”