Page 31 of The Debt

“Like hell. I need her fleet.” Petrov’s bravado cracked as Lucky pressed his hand flat against the chair arm. His voice sounded thin and cracked with a twinge of fear. “You better let me go unharmed, Dark One, or every crew in this region will—”

“You need to show some respect and definitely require an incentive to listen when I talk.” Jarek nodded once.

Lucky’s blade caught the swinging light. Petrov thrashed against his bonds, the tendons in his neck standing out as he watched the knife descend. His scream echoed off the walls as the blade cut through skin and bone. Blood sprayed across weathered wood and splattered red stains across his white shirt. Petrov’s severed thumb hit the dirt floor with a soft thud.

Jarek watched impassively as Petrov’s scream dissolved into ragged sobs. Blood pulsed from the wound in steady spurts.

“Now.” Jarek’s voice remained conversational. “Shall we discuss your future plans?”

Petrov stared at his maimed hand. His face had turned a shade of gray with shock. “You’re… f-fucking insane.”

“No.” Jarek leaned closer. “I’m determined. The next finger comes off if you don’t start making better choices.”

Lucky’s blade caught the swinging light. The sharp edge was a vow of more pain. Petrov flinched, and a pitiful whimper echoed through the musty shack.

“If I walk away, I need compensation.” Blood continued to drip from his mutilated hand. A dark pool formed on the floor. “The Cuban cartel expects to move their shipments through Atlanta. Without Tatiana’s transport fleet for cross-border routes, I’m a dead man walking.”

“You’re under a misconception, Petrov. This isn’t a negotiation.” Disgust dripped from Jarek’s words. “Your comfort in the drug trade isn’t my concern.”

“This was Polov’s idea. Tatiana’s trucks are the perfect cover.” A cruel smile twisted Petrov’s bloodied face. “She won’t even need to agree. Once we’re married, everything becomes mine. Her company, her assets, and her fleet. That’s how marriage works.”

The casual way he spoke of belittling Tatiana’s life’s work made Jarek’s blood boil. His fingers curled into fists as rage built at both Petrov’s entitlement and Polov’s willingness to sacrifice his granddaughter’s future. The old man’s betrayal of his own blood for profit twisted Jarek’s gut. That he himself intended to usurp her life didn’t factor at the moment. At least he had no design to take her company from her. He might be using her as a tool to get to Polov, but he had every intention of having a normal marriage with her. Effectively, at least in his mind, her life would be better without Polov in it.

“You have a warped view of what a marriage is, and you’re severely underestimating her.” Jarek’s voice remained deadly calm despite his inner fury. “Tatiana’s not some naive heiress. She’s built her company from the ground up and will have legal measures in place to protect her assets. No forced marriage will give you control.”

“Legal protections mean nothing once she’s my wife.” Petrov spat blood. “Polov knows how to make her comply.”

Lucky's knife flicked open again. The sound reverberated like a death knell.

“No! Wait!” The metal chair scraped concrete as Petrov tried to escape Lucky’s approach. “I’ll do what you want. I’ll withdraw. I’ll walk away!”

“Wise choice.” Walking closer, Jarek fished out Petrov’s phone from his pocket. “Since I am not the kind of man who trusts easily, we’ll just do this now.” He opened the contact list and scrolled down to Polov’s number. His eyes gleamed as he looked at Petrov. “Don’t be stupid, Petrov. One wrong word about my involvement,ever, and Lucky gets creative with that knife.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing men like us do over the phone. It needs to be a face-to-face meeting.” Sweat poured down Petrov’s ashen face. “Polov won’t accept—”

“Not negotiable. You will inform Polov you are no longer interested in marrying Tatiana. Furthermore, you will convince him that your Cuban associates are forcing your hand to end your alliance with the Polovskaya Bratva and form a coalition with them.”

“You’re fucking insane!” Terror widened Petrov’s eyes as he realized his impossible position. “Polov will kill me for breaking our alliance. He makes millions through our partnership. The Bratva doesn’t forgive betrayal.”

“Then I suggest you become very convincing.” Jarek’s eyes darkened. “Consider your options carefully. Polov’s anger or Lucky’s inventiveness with that blade. Since Polov owes you, it’s the one you might just survive. The other…” He let the threat hang.

Petrov’s chest heaved with panicked breaths. He was trapped between The Dark One’s immediate violence and Polov’s eventual retribution. His eyes darted between his severed thumb in the dirt and Lucky’s blade, weighing which fate he feared more.

“Time to make the call,” Jarek said. “And remember, if Polov ever learns of my involvement, today’s lesson will seem merciful in comparison.”

“This is going to be the end of me,” Petrov wailed as Jarek pressed the dial button and held the phone to his ear.

Jarek’s voice darkened ominously. “Yeah, being a criminal is a risky business, isn’t it?”

Tatiana

Two days later, the luxurious estate of Gregor Polov, Berkeley Lake…

Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over the mahogany dining table. Silver platters held caviar, smoked salmon, and her grandmother’s prized borscht. The table settings sparkled with Elizabeth Polov’s treasured Fabergé collection, which she reserved for special occasions.

Tatiana stopped in the doorway as she noticed the four place settings. “I swear to God,Dedushka, if Barto Petrov walks through that door, I’m leaving.” She met Gregor’s steel-gray eyes. “I won’t marry him, and I explicitly told you why. I’m in love with another man.”

Gregor’s eyes flickered as he dabbed his lips with a silk napkin. “Sit down, Tatiana.”

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