Page 39 of Malevolent King

The noise of metal scraping against stone sounded and kicked me back to life, just in time to see the door open of the small stone room I was being held in. Another visitor. I’d never been so popular. A shadowy silhouette appeared in the opening. I squinted through the darkness to see who might visit my torture chamber.

“Nikolai, I trust you are comfortable enough in your new rooms,” Antonio De Sanctis’ voice boomed across the freezing basement space. “I will have to give you back to Kirill in one piece at some point, although you killed five of my men yesterday.” His disapproving tone was cold and clinical.

“I did you a favor. They were dead weight and dangerously incompetent. You’re welcome,” I managed.

The older man sauntered toward me, giving every appearance of ease as he watched me push myself to sit upright. My head spun, either from hunger or thirst. I didn’t know, but I forced my customary smirk.

“Be that as it may, their friends will want their pound of flesh, you understand. I need you alive. Whole or not doesn’t matter to me. None of this had to be difficult. All you had to do was play your part, bleed a little, and let the city see that the Chernov bratva didn’t think they were above my family. A stain on a reputation is a cancer in our world, you know, eating away at power. Now, though, it’ll cost you more than a couple of broken ribs.”

“I don’t scare that easily, Antonio. You’ll have to do better if you want a reaction from me,” I told him flatly.

Antonio merely chuckled and cracked his long fingers. He was wiry and tanned, with his hair combed tidily back. His fingers held more than one signet ring that I was sure had left their imprints in some suckers’ faces over the years. He had an elegance that I saw echoed and expanded in his daughter. I didn’t know Renato, the only son and heir to the family, but I’d bet he was like his father.

Antonio De Sanctis looked like he’d be at home in a vineyard in Tuscany, overlooking a million-dollar estate, tasting wine, and bedding gorgeous younger women. He looked like he should live the life of a true Italian gent instead of crouching over a man like me in a stinking, cold basement outside Trenton.

“I heard that about you,” Antonio chuckled. “My men don’t mind teaching the same lesson twice.”

“Good for them,” I said, leaning my head against the wall, my shoulders burning in the backward position they’d been forced into. “So, you’re just here to watch. I wouldn’t have taken you for a voyeur, Antonio.”

My goading tone sent a wider grin to Antonio’s face. “I was just curious. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the thick of it. I have a heart problem, you know, I can’t get too excited. The days of snipping off fingertips and ears are behind me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it,” Antonio said with a disturbing fondness to his tone. “But I don’t have to explain the thrill of the hunt and the sweetness of the catch to you, do I, Nikolai? I’ve heard about you.” He leaned in, his eyes tracking me. “Anyway, how does it feel to be outmaneuvered by your own brother and delivered into my hands by your own family?”

I shrugged. “It’s just business, I suppose. Nothing personal.” I thought about telling him I rarely felt anything at all unless it came to his daughter but decided against it. No need to get my little prom queen in trouble, too.

Antonio nodded and raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear you say that. This, too, is just business. A pound of flesh for the mark of disrespect that the Chernovs smeared against the De Sanctis name. That you Russian pigs could even consider degrading a family so far above you in power and reputation is a testament to how badly this lesson was needed. I’ll enjoy teaching it, as well as my men.”

His superior tone turned my amusement into annoyance and back to humor. This aristocratic old-school don thought I cared about the class hierarchy of the underworld we both walked in.

Baring my teeth in a semblance of a bloodthirsty grin, I laughed. “Don’t forget, Tony, I’m Russian. I don’t care if you’re the lord of the manor around here or Italian fucking royalty. The only good aristocrat is a dead one. Eat the rich.”

I lunged toward him with a speed that sent him stumbling back and snapped my teeth.The sound sent Antonio’s eyebrows together. It was funny. He thought I cared about his reputation or what the rest of the underworld thought of me or my bratva?

He didn’t enjoy being played with, given the way his face froze with arctic anger that grew colder as my laughter bounced off the walls.

I was still laughing when his heavy foot landed on my side, doubling me over. Heart condition or not, it seemed it was indeed possible to rile Antonio De Sanctis’ emotions.

I laughed harder when he pulled me up as far as he could and hit me hard in the mouth, again and again, until my lip split and warm blood showered across my chin.

I couldn’t help it. It was really fucking funny.

Antonio watched me like someone would a cockroach they weren’t sure how to squish without getting their shoes dirty.

I turned my head and spit a long stream of blood on the floor, using my shoulder to wipe my dripping lip.

“You know, you should be careful with that heart, Tony. Don’t get overexcited, or your daughter will be wearing black and standing at your graveside soon enough.”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed, and the irritation he couldn’t hide flashed over his features at the nickname. Then he schooled himself and smiled.“Don’t worry about Sofia, Nikolai. She’s a loyal daughter. She’ll do what she has to for the family every single time. Of course, without her help, we never would have found you. We weren’t even near the right place.” He leaned down, watching as his words found their mark. “Of course, it’s only right she should do something useful for a change. Daughters are more trouble than they’re worth. The least Sofia can do now is be a good girl and marry whomever I choose next. She’s going to regret not taking your brother. At least he was young.”

I swallowed a mouthful of bile and blood. “Don’t you know? Young just means they live longer. With a husband a girl doesn’t want, the older, the better.” The glib words felt like a lie on my tongue.

Antonio chuckled. “You’re amusing, Chernov. I’ll give you that. Fucking annoying but amusing. Since I’m not a thug like you, you’ll be fed and washed and kept in decent condition here. Let your sentence pass without incident, and you and your brother can go back to trying to kill each other in no time.”

Antonio stood and made for the door. Go back to Kirill and tear up the city to bepakhan? The idea was distinctly unappealing. For the first time in a long time-since that day in the bathroom, cradling my mother’s body in my arms-I had no idea what the future held.

I’d lost my place in the world.

My mind shifted to my little prom queen upstairs.

It was time to carve a new one.

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