Page 6 of Bratva Butcher

He’d passed out.

I had to give it to the guy. He’d clearly been on the brink of losing consciousness, but through sheer willpower and determination, he had managed to pull through so he didn’t pass out in front of his brother. His torturer.

As someone who’d been in the exact same position as him not even twenty-four hours earlier, I understood that drive, thecompulsion not to let that bastard win. Not to let him see me crumble and break.

Movement made me glance to my left. I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ana shuffled forward regardless of my words, the chain around her neck rattling. “He needs water.” She was a nice woman. Old—well, older than me, and I was in my early forties. She had a very motherly nature about her. I’d have wagered a bet she was somebody’s grandmother. Fuck, even great grandmother.

My eyes focused back on the old woman inching her way towards the unconscious man dangling from the ceiling. She hadn’t quite spilt the beans on what she was doing trapped in that shithole, but then again, neither had I.

With a sigh, I got to my feet and intercepted her path before she could take another step. I didn’t have to go too far. She moved slower than a fucking turtle. I took the small bowl filled with her water ration for the day and walked the few steps back to her spot on the wall, placing it back on the ground.

She gave me a smile that showed barely any teeth. Just all gums.

Seriously. What could a frail, old woman like her possibly have done to Dominik to warrant being trapped down there?

I was dying to ask, but I knew I couldn’t. It would open the door for her to ask the same question in return. My business was nobody’s business.

“You’re a nice girl, aren’t you? Deep down, behind that rough and tumble exterior.”

“I’m really not.” She was justancient, and I had a soft spot for the oldies.

I took her by the elbow and led her back to her little corner of the room. We all had them. The chains around our necks were long enough to provide us with the ability to stand andstretch our legs. They definitely weren’t long enough to reach the staircase at the opposite end of the room.

I knew. I’d tried.

Along with myself and Ana, there were two others. A guy who called himself Wink—real name unknown—and Veronica, a shy young woman who spent more time crying than talking.

She annoyed me, if I was being honest. But I was trying to be empathetic because I was sure the situation would be hard for normal, everyday people to handle.

“Normal” was a ship that had sailed a long time ago for me, and it didn’t even have anything to do with the fact that I was essentially a gun for hire, which I was well aware was far from ordinary.

Even from a young age, I knew I was different. That my mind and emotions just didn’t work the way everybody else’s did. Things thatshould haveaffected me didn’t. Like when my older brother died. I didn’t shed one fucking tear. Though I’m pretty sure that was because he tried to rape me when I was eight.

My parents had called me heartless.

“How can you not care that your brother is dead?”

“What kind of monster are you?”

It wasn’t likeIkilled him. Fucker had died in a car accident. But when I heard the news, I just shrugged and went right back to cutting the heads off all the Barbie dolls my mother insisted on buying me, even though I told her I didn’t fucking like Barbies.

My parents chucked me into therapy, where they told me I had the personality traits of a psychopath. A little extreme to tell a ten-year-old, but whatever.

After I helped Ana sit back down, I went over to where Veronica was. There was a tiny bit of light illuminating the room from the single light bulb dangling over Dimitri’s head. It wasbarely enough to see where I was going, but I’d been in that room for so long that I’d mapped out each direction I was able to go.

Veronica scrambled away as I neared, begging me not to hurt her. To please let her go, like I had any fucking say in what was going on there.

Idiot.

I picked up her small bowl of water and, with cautious steps, approached Dimitri’s unconscious form. His entire body hung limp, the only thing keeping him upright being the metal cuffs no doubt digging painfully into his wrists.

I pursed my lips, studying him carefully. There was no denying that he was an attractive man. Dark hair with spatterings of silver. Sharp, angular features. Strong jawline. Narrow nose. Full lips.

Even though he and Dominik were identical twins, there was a clear difference between the two—at least, as far as I could tell.

Where Dominik had quite a haggard appearance—like he’d aged well beyond his fifty-four years due to stress—and a noticeably smaller build, Dimitri had the body of a twenty-year-old frat boy and the face of a finely ageing Henry Cavill. Bulging muscles. Hard, defined abs. Powerful chest and big, broad shoulders. It was clear that he worked out. Kept himself in incredible shape.

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