Page 23 of Beautiful Cruelty

Demyon's dark chuckle crackles through the speaker. "Oh, he's very comfortable hanging around. See you soon, Vadyusha."

And without another beat, the line goes dead.

I parkmy Ferrari in the alley behind the safe house on 8th, and kill the engine. The familiar dark blue door waits for me at the bottom of worn concrete steps.

Harsh fluorescent lights cast everything in a sickly glow. The metallic tang of blood hits my nostrils before I see our guest—suspended from the ceiling by thick chains wrapped around his wrists. His suit jacket lies in tatters on the floor, and his once-white dress shirt is now stained crimson.

Demyon leans against the wall, cleaning blood off his knuckles with a rag. He gives me a nod as I approach.

"Who is he?" I circle our hanging friend, noting the Zelos watch on his wrist and the faux-Italian leather shoes. Everything about him betrays a desperation to live a luxurious life, but without the knowledge to do it properly.

"Investment banker by the name of Nathan Walker." Demyon tosses the bloodied rag aside. "Helped move quite a bit of cash forChrysalis Designs. You remember their CEO."

"Kolzak Pavlenko." I snarl, balling my hand into a fist at the mere thought of that monster's name.

Pavlenko was one of the worst offenders who partook in Kirsan's services. Rapist. Murderer. Pedophile. His death was slow and drawn out, and I kept a steady drip of adrenaline and amphetamines in him to make sure he was awake until the very end.

Walker lets out a wet cough. Blood and spittle run down his chin. His eyes are nearly swollen shut from the beating Demyon gave him, but I can still see the fear in them as he tracks my movements.

I grab his neck and force him to look at me. "What other deals did you work on for Kirsan?"

"Who?" Walker's voice cracks. "I just move money around. I don't ask questions."

My fist drives into his stomach. The chains rattle as he swings, gasping for air. The sound echoes off the concrete walls.

Kirsan Kuular built an empire trafficking young women across Europe and Asia. He lures them in with promises of modeling contracts, only to sell them to the highest bidder at the first opportunity.

Fashion shows are his bread and butter, but lately, he's becoming more and more brazen—choosing to openly advertise his victims as exclusive bespoke fashion items.

Once upon a time, he was an ally and business partner to my father Pyotr.

But those times have long since ended.

I spent every single second of my time since becoming the pakhan of the Stravinsky Bratva dismantling the monstrous operation that Kirsan built with Pyotr. The trafficking rings, the shell companies, and all the infrastructure to support them. For ten years, I've been fighting what felt like an endless war.

No matter how many victims we save, and how many parts of it we take down, Kirsan's main operation continues to evade us.

Worse, it continues to grow.

Precisely because of scum like Nathan Walker who enables it.

"Listen carefully, Mr. Walker. You have two options." I wipe blood off my knuckles with my pocket square. "You can be honest with me and get a quick, clean death. Or you can keep lying, and I'll take my time ripping you apart piece by piece until you tell me everything anyway."

I lean in close, letting him see the promise of violence in my eyes. "The choice is yours. One way or another, you’re going to die. The least you can do is die with some fucking dignity.”

Walker's swollen eyes dart between me and Demyon. His hesitation costs him a blow to the gut. The chains rattle again as he swings. Another punch to his gut, and he starts rattling off names and numbers between labored breaths.

"How long have you been working on transactions like these?" I circle behind him, watching his shoulders tense.

"Three years. Please, that's all I know. I swear."

Anger tears through me like a hot knife.Three years.This piece of shit doesn't deserve a quick death.

"You're not telling me anything that I don't already know." I snarl. "Maybe I should just gut you and be done with it."

"Wait!" Walker's head lolls forward, his breath coming in wet gasps. "There's one more thing."

I wait, letting the silence build pressure.

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