Page 10 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

Kris blinks rapidly, his hands raising in a defensive gesture. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

Before he can finish, I grab the glass of whiskey from his desk and hurl it against the wall. It shatters with a deafening crash, amber liquid dripping down the plaster like blood.

“Don’t insult me by lying,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous.

Kris flinches, his eyes darting to the broken glass. “I swear, Boss, I didn’t mean—”

I slam my hand down on the desk, making him jump. “You’ve been usingmyclub to exploit women. Blackmailing them, trapping them, selling them off to the highest bidder. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Kris’s face turns ashen, and he stumbles over his words. “It’s not like that! I was just… it was just a few—”

I grab him by the collar, hauling him halfway out of his chair. “A few?” I hiss, my face inches from his. “You’ve turned my club into a brothel. You’ve brought shame to my name, my rules.”

“Please!” Kris sputters, his hands clawing at mine. “It was a mistake! I can fix it!”

I shove him back into the chair, and he lands with a grunt. His hands shake as he adjusts his collar, his chest heaving with panicked breaths.

“You don’t fix things, Kris,” I say, straightening. “This is beyond that.”

I glance at Andrei, who steps forward, pulling a steel baton from his jacket. He smacks it against his palm with a dull thud, and Kris’s eyes widen in terror.

“Wait,” Kris pleads, scrambling to his feet. “Boss, I can explain—”

“Sit down,” I snap, and the force in my voice sends him crashing back into the chair.

I nod to Andrei, who moves behind Kris and slams the baton into the back of his knee. Kris screams, clutching his leg as he crumples to the floor.

“You thought you could use my name, my club, to run your filthy little business?” I ask, crouching beside him. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice, or that I wouldn’t care?”

“Please,” Kris sobs, tears streaming down his face. “It won’t happen again. I’ll stop, I swear!”

I grab his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “You’re right about one thing, Kris. It won’t happen again. Because after tonight, you’re done.”

“Boss—”

I cut him off with a sharp punch to the face, his head snapping back with a sickening crack. Blood pours from his nose, staining his shirt as he groans in pain.

I rise to my feet, wiping my knuckles on a handkerchief Andrei hands me. “Take him,” I say to my men.

Two of them haul Kris to his feet, dragging him toward the door. He screams, his voice raw with desperation. “Please! I’ll do anything! Just give me a chance!”

The Ember House’s main floor thrums with life: pounding bass, flashing lights, audible even from the office.

None of it registers. My focus is on Kris as my men drag him through the hallway and into my own office across the hall.

“Please, Boss!” Kris sputters, his voice hoarse from crying out. Blood trickles from his broken nose, staining his shirt. His legs buckle as he’s hauled forward, his shoes scraping against the floor. “I swear, it was just a mistake! Just a misunderstanding!”

I follow at a steady pace, Andrei at my side. I don’t rush. This moment has been a long time coming.

We reach the secondary office, a small, windowless room used for more… delicate matters. The bare concrete walls and single overhead bulb give it a grim, utilitarian feel. My men shove Kris inside, and he stumbles, nearly falling before catching himself on the edge of the metal desk.

“Sit,” Andrei growls, shoving him down into the lone chair.

Kris’s chest heaves as he looks around wildly, his hands raised in a pathetic gesture of surrender. “Boss, please. Whatever you think I did, I swear, I can explain—”

“Shut up,” I snap, my tone cold and final.

His mouth snaps shut, his face pale and clammy. I step forward, pulling the chair from behind the desk and turning it to face him. Slowly, deliberately, I sit down, elbows resting on my knees as I lean forward.

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