Page 17 of Ruthless Bonds

Someone had been feeding sensitive information about my operations to my enemies, a crime I couldn’t allow to go unpunished. I enforced a strict code of conduct within my organization, and any insubordination was met with severe consequences.

Despite my stern rule, those who remained loyal were richly compensated. My inner circle had become a brotherhood, united by loyalty and a strong sense of family. Which made this betrayal even more infuriating. Someone I trusted had been giving away my secrets, and it would be dealt with the only way Iknew how.

Extreme brutality.

“Lies!” Miklov roared. “You can’t believe those lying whores, Pakhan.”

“Very well.” I leaned back in the chair and nodded at Sago. “Take his eye.”

Sago grabbed a scalpel from the table and straddled Miklov. “Which one?”

I tilted my head to the side, relishing in the terrified look on Miklov’s face. “Right one. Open it up. I want him to see everything until he confesses his sins.”

Sago spent the next twenty minutes doing what he did best. It wasn’t until he stripped off Miklov’s pants and pulled out the blowtorch that Miklov decided he was ready to tell the truth.

“Bozra the C-Cruel,” he gasped, tears spilling down his face. “He’s coming for you.” His head rolled from side to side as he laughed manically. “You’re all dead. All dead!”

Sago slammed his fist against Miklov’s jaw. The room grew instantly quiet.

Bozra Ivanov.

Bozra the Cruel had been cast out of the Bratva by my father. He had deep ties to crooked oligarchs and Russian government officials and was known for his overkill. Where one might use a fist, he would use a bullet. Where one might use a bullet, he would use a bomb. He’d vowed revenge on my family and then disappeared without a trace. It seemed now he might be ready to act on his promise.

“Take his tongue. Put his head in the pit. Let’s remind the others how we respond to disloyalty.”

“Yes, Pakhan.” Sago grinned, unfazed by myrequest.

I took the private elevator to the security room on the top floor. Standing before the wall of security monitors was Gavriil, my advisor and closest confidant. From the moment you stepped into Mayhem, you were being recorded.

“I had no idea Senator Murphy was such an animal lover,” I commented. The senator was on his hands and knees, a saddle strapped to his back and a large carrot in his mouth. I had a hunch there was another carrot somewhere else. A voluptuous blonde was behind him with a riding crop, whipping him without mercy.

Gavriil chuckled and pressed a button, muting the room Miklov was in. “I’m reaching out to my connection in the SVR. If the Cruel has come out of hiding, I’ll find out.”

That was Gavriil’s specialty. He had a network of spies in New York, Russia, and every major city. He was more than a spymaster; he was essentially an extension of myself and my power.

“Good.” I checked my watch. “I’m going to check on Bela.”

We headed down the hall to my sister’s office. Bela, only twenty-five, ten years younger than myself, was a key player in my operations. I’d tried my hardest to shield her from the brutality of the Bratva growing up, but she was a Zokrov. Chaos and mayhem were in her blood, just like they were in mine and our brother’s. But I was fiercely protective of her and tried to keep her focused on Mayhem and not on the ongoing wars and carnage.

I found her leaning over her desk, looking at alarge map of the docks. Her eyes brightened when she saw me.

“You’re home!” She squeezed me into a hug. “Satan.” She nodded at Gavriil, which only made him laugh. They’d had a love-hate relationship her entire life. Probably because he was just as protective of her as I was, and she couldn’t stand it.

“How was Canada? And our new Italian friends? Is it a done deal?” She leaned against her desk, crossing one ankle over the other.

I grabbed a drink from the bar cart. “We’re moving forward with the expansion. Just a few details to work out, but nothing for you to worry about.” I poured three shots of whiskey and handed one to each of them.

Something red in the trash bin next to the cart caught my attention.

“Bela?” I glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “Why is there a bloody ear in your trash can?”

“It’s not real.” She threw back her shot, her cheeks turning pink. “A new bartender tried to touch one of the girls. So, I took care of it.”

“Who?” Gavriil walked over to peer into the trash can. While he was there, he couldn’t stop himself from straightening out the bottles of liquor on the cart. I was sure his compulsion to straighten things had everything to do with his father beating him mercilessly when he’d made a mess as a child. But we never spoke about him.

“Which bartender?” I asked.

“No.” She wiggled her finger in my face. “It’s handled. No meddling in club business unless I ask, remember?”

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