Page 73 of Crown of Hate

I’m already steaming by the time I reach the basement.

The stench hits me first—blood, sweat, and piss. Arsen’s sprawled in the chair, snoring like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Bastard.

My anger flares just looking at him. Alya could have gotten hurt because of this sick fuck. And because of me. Because I wasn’t careful enough.

I should’ve seen through it. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to get to Akim. My hands ball into fists.

Fuck restraint.

My fist connects with his face, and the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles sends a surge of delight through me.

He jolts awake, eyes wild with dawning terror as he takes in his predicament. The son of a bitch has no idea he’s now my prisoner, and fuck, do I love the fear bleeding into his eyes.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” I say dryly.

Thanks to Kira’s Disney obsession, I know the tale of Sleeping Beauty all too well. This moron doesn’t even come close. I hope he gets the irony.

His eyes meet mine, jaw quivering like a scared little boy. “Where am I?” he tries to snarl, but it comes out more like a whimper.

I sneer. Nothing pisses me off more than a dog who barks when he can’t bite. The audacity of this fool thinking he could take me on… What a fucking joke. I’d tell him to sharpen his hunting skills, but he won’t be alive long enough for that.

“Welcome to your own personal hell,” I answer, leaning back against the torture table. My fingers drum against the array of tools—each instrument holds a story, a confession extracted, a life ended. Arsen’s just the latest chapter.

He writhes, straining against the ropes binding him to the electric chair. My lip curls in disgust. How long before this idiot realizes it’s pointless? He’s already a dead man walking. My mind wanders to the various ways I could end him. Electrocution? Exsanguination? The possibilities are endless, really, and I’m still thinking of the best way.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake, Mikhail. Akim will find out you took me and?—"

“What do you think will happen?” I ask, cutting him off. I’m amazed how he’s not aware enough to realize how insignificant he is in the grand scheme of things. “You think Akim gives a shit about you? That he’ll waste time and resources looking for your sorry ass?”

A sardonic laugh rips from my throat at how foolish he is.

His throat bobs as he swallows. “What do you want?” he croaks, bravado crumbling. “I’ll tell or give you whatever you want, just… just let me live.”

I pick out a scalpel from the dissecting set, and in two quick strides, I’m at his throat, steel kissing skin. “I want everything you know on Akim, Boris, and how they run the Bratva in Russia,” I hiss. “Every. Fucking. Detail.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you everything I know,” he squeaks. He doesn’t even try to hide the terror in his voice anymore. Pathetic.

I step back, checking my watch. “You have five minutes. I need to get back to my wife before she wakes up.”

Alya already knows about this basement and the horrors I conduct here. But knowing and seeing are two different beasts, and I plan to protect her from as much of the brutality of the mafia world as I can. I failed yesterday, and I’ll never forgive myself if I let that happen again.

“Boris is not your enemy. At least not technically,” Arsen begins, voice shaky.

My eyes narrow. “The fucker put a bounty on my head. If it’s not him, then who?”

“Akim Petrov.”

“He acted on Boris’s order,” I argue, hating that I’m defending that asshole. But I need to understand the dynamics between my enemies if I’m going to take them down.

“No. Boris gave the order because Akim asked him to. That blonde bastard is nothing but a puppet—Akim is the real Pakhan, he always wanted to be. That’s why he killed Ivan Orlov and made his move the moment you were away.”

I’m not surprised. What actually took me by surprise was the fact that Boris, a kid who clubbed all weekend and couldn’t even make his first kill, suddenly became a ruthless Pakhan overnight.

So, it’s Akim calling the shot from behind the scenes. Interesting.

“Is he planning to stay in the shadows forever? A man as greedy as him won’t be content playing puppet master.”

Arsen coughs, wincing in pain. Good. I hope he’s in agony. “You’re Akim’s biggest threat. What do you think will happen if you’re eliminated?”

---