Page 11 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

“You’ve disappointed me, Kris,” I begin, my voice quiet but razor-sharp. “And do you know what happens to people who disappoint me?”

He shakes his head violently, his lips trembling. “Boss, I swear, I didn’t mean—”

I raise a hand, silencing him. “You’ve turnedmyclub into your personal cesspool. Exploiting women. Blackmailing them. Selling them off like cattle.” I let the words settle, watching as they sink in.

“It wasn’t like that!” Kris blurts, tears streaming down his face. “It was just… it was just a few side deals. Nothing serious. Nothing that could hurt the business!”

I tilt my head, studying him like a bug under a microscope. “Nothing serious?” I repeat, my voice eerily calm. “Using my name, my reputation, to traffic women isn’t serious?”

“It wasn’t trafficking!” he protests, his voice rising. “It was… it was business. They were willing—”

I’m on him in an instant, my fist slamming into his jaw. The force sends him toppling out of the chair, sprawling onto the floor.

“Don’t lie to me,” I snarl, standing over him. “Do you think I’m stupid, Kris?”

He scrambles backward, his hands raised in a futile attempt to protect himself. “I swear, Boss! It won’t happen again! Just give me one more chance!”

I crouch down, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up to meet my gaze. “You’ve had your chance,” I hiss. “You spat on it.”

His breath comes in short, panicked gasps as he shakes his head. “Please… please….”

I let him go, and he collapses to the floor, sobbing. My men stand silent and unmoving by the door, their expressions grim.

I straighten, adjusting my jacket. “Tie him,” I order.

Andrei steps forward, pulling a length of rope from his jacket. Kris struggles weakly as his hands are bound behind his back, his cries muffled by the gag one of my men shoves into his mouth.

I walk back to the desk, sitting once more as I watch him writhe on the floor. For a moment, I say nothing, letting the tension build. His muffled sobs echo in the room, grating on my nerves.

“Kris,” I say finally, my tone flat. “Do you know the difference between power and weakness?”

He doesn’t respond, his bloodshot eyes darting toward me in fear.

“Power,” I continue, as if lecturing a child, “is earned. It’s built on respect, on loyalty. Weakness? Weakness is what you’ve shown tonight. It’s greed. Cowardice. Exploiting those who can’t fight back.”

I rise to my feet, pulling my gun from its holster. The metallic scrape of the safety being clicked off sends a visible shudder through Kris’s body.

“Boss, please,” he mumbles through the gag, his words slurred and desperate.

I step closer, the barrel of the gun now level with his head. His sobs grow louder, his body trembling violently.

“Do you want to know what disgusts me most about you?” I ask, my voice soft, almost contemplative. “It’s not that you betrayed me. It’s that you did it so… sloppily. No honor. No thought. Just mindless greed.”

Kris shakes his head, tears streaming down his face as he mumbles incoherent pleas.

I crouch down, bringing the gun closer. “You’re not just a failure, Kris. You’re a liability. I don’t keep liabilities.”

I stand, my finger tightening on the trigger. Kris screams behind the gag, the sound muffled but deafening in the small room.

The gunshot echoes, sharp and final. Kris’s body jerks once, then falls still, his blood pooling on the cold concrete floor.

I lower the gun, my expression unchanged. There’s no satisfaction in this, no triumph. Just the cold, detached necessity of cleaning up a mess.

“Andrei,” I say, turning to him. “Clean this up.”

He nods, already moving to direct the others. I slide the gun back into its holster and head toward the door, my footsteps steady and deliberate.

The bass from the club filters faintly through the walls as I step back into the hallway, the noise jarring after the stark silence of the room.

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