Page 121 of Bratva Knight

Once we reached the bottom of the ramp, Daniella stopped. Surprise-fucking-surprise. Another locked metal door. Another two A-Team soldiers.

This Talon dude wasreallystarting to piss me off.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I was getting really good at this whole acting thing.

She bit her lip nervously, staring ahead at the door with a nauseated look on her face. “I don’t like going in there,” she whispered softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Usually, Patrick will do it for me. The fighters, they make me nervous. They say things. Horrible things.”

Probably because they're experiencing horrible things. Fighting for your life isn’t exactly a walk in the park.

I tried to rein in the giddiness that burst through my body at her words. Luck really was on my side that day. “I can do it for you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn't ask that of you—”

“You’re not. I’m offering.” I laid a hand on her shoulder. An innocent gesture, but it still felt so wrong to touch another woman, even with no sexual underlines.

Relief filled her face. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. I’ve debated asking for a different task, but I’m afraid if I do they’ll fire me, and I really need this job. I can’t afford to lose it.”

“Don’t sweat it. You wait here. I’ll take the food in.”

She nodded. “They each get one plate and one bottle of water. There will be a gap at the bottom of the cell for you to push it through. Just be careful.”

“Alright.” I pushed the cart forward before she could say another word, not giving her a chance to change her mind. It was my opportunity to get in that room and come face to face with my father. I wasn’t going to let it slip by me. Not when I was so fucking close.

One of the A-Team soldiers opened the door for me and I disappeared inside, theclankof it shutting behind me ringing out through the room. I took everything in with quick, assessing eyes. Six cells on one side of the room, another six on the other, each housing two prisoners. twenty-four people in total. The air reeked of oppression, cruelty, desperation.

It was one of the nicest dungeons I’d ever come across. Better than ours, that was for sure. There was ample light and each cell had two beds and a toilet. It reminded me of an actual prison cell, possessing the bare necessities a human needed to survive. Despite being held captive, it looked like they weren’t being entirely mistreated. Emphasis on “entirely”. It would have been no sweat off Talon’s back to have them housed in much poorer conditions than this, and yet it seemed he’d spared no expense to make sure they were being held captive in relatively bland accommodations.

I moved forward slowly, running my gaze quickly through each cell, searching.

Where is he? Where is he-there.I spotted him in the cell at the very end.

Father.

He was doing pull ups, his body heaving up and down, up and down, sweat gleaming along his bare skin. He wore no shirt. Just a pair of loose pants. There was a collar around his neck—aroundallof their necks—that put me instantly on alert. I wasn’t sure what they were for, but I knew it couldn’t be for anything good.

I slowly wheeled the cart to the closest cell. Most of the prisoners moved to the front of their cells, clearly knowing what was coming and eager to get their hands on the food.

As I neared the first cell, Father’s gaze drifted to me and our eyes collided. He froze, his body suspended in mid air as recognition took over. Then he continued on with his exercise, giving nothing but that brief moment of hesitancy as an indication that he recognised me.

It required a conscious effort for me not to look his way again as I stopped in front of the first cell. The man inside approached the bars, watching me with these angry, repulsive eyes that spoke volumes of what he thought of me and this place.

He was a big man with pasty skin, a crooked nose and a buzz cut that made me think perhaps he was a Marine, or had been previously. There was also a woman there. Actually, as I subtly glanced at all of the cells, I noticed theyallhad one man and one woman. A way of keeping the fights fair, I suspected. Any team with two males would have a slight advantage over those that didn’t.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” the man spat, looking down at me with derision. “We’re people.Human beings. You can’t treat us this way.”

I said nothing, picking up two of the paper plates full of food and slowly pushing them through the gap that Daniella mentioned. The woman grabbed the water bottles I rolled through next.

“Please,” she begged, eyes glistening with tears. “This isn’t right and you know it. Please, let us go.”

Ah. So he was the bad cop and she was the good cop. Or, more accurately, the sad cop. He was meant to get me ashamed of my actions and she was meant to appeal to my humane side. Make me feel sorry for her, guilty. To make me want to help her.

A clever tactic that I’m sure they tried on everyone who went down there. Admirable, very admirable. I had to give them points for trying. But there was only one person I was interested in saving.

I moved from cell to cell, handing out the allocated food and water. I took my time at each one, dragging it out for as long as I could so that when I got to my father’s cell, it wouldn’t seem suspicious when I took a little longer. I knew each of these cells had a camera in it, and the prisoners were being watched vigorously. That meantIwas too. I had to be careful not to blow my cover.

Each person tried their luck at getting me to let them go.

“Please, they’re going to kill us!”

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