Page 80 of Lethal Alliance

“I’m beginning to think we might need to give Roman a little push. I thought that sending him your mother’s finger might serve as a warning, but it doesn’t seem to have made an impression. Perhaps a video might be better.” He steps into the room, licking his lips in a way that turns my stomach. “Something creative. His sweet little teenage daughter getting broken in with a knife at her throat, for example.”

His men laugh again, though this time, I can hear the faint note of unease behind their laughter. After the conversation I overheard between Alexei and Dima the other night, I’ve realized that not all Vilnus’s men are loyal to him. I’ve begun to notice those who vie for his attention, and the others who stand slightly back, keeping their expressions carefully neutral.

“I could do it myself.” Vilnus’s eyes flicker to Masha. “Like I will with this one, when the time comes. No daughter of mine goes to their wedding bed without feeling my cock inside them first.”

None of his men laugh at that. Several of them look away, clearly uncomfortable.

It seems that even in the home of the most brutal of bratva criminals, some things are still despised by most men.

Unfortunately, their disgust only seems to spur Vilnus on even more.

“You don’t like that, do you?” He looks around at his men contemptuously. “You don’t understand. I don’t fuck them because I like it. I don’t. They’re my children, my blood. I fuck them so the men they marry know who owns them. Know what I’m capable of. A man who can fuck his own daughter? That’s not a man you fuck with. My sons-in-law are loyal to the bonebecausethey know what I’m capable of.”

He stares around the room until he gets a reluctant mumble of assent. He nods as if he’s satisfied. I wonder if he sees the contempt in their downcast eyes. But then again, from what I’ve seen, Vilnus Orlov isn’t the kind of man who cares much for what others think of him.

His eyes scan the room, then settle on Alexei.

“What about you, Petrovsky?” He kicks the seated figure with one booted foot. “You’ve always had a soft spot for little girls. Took me years to teach you to take a knife to them, didn’t it? Had to almost cut you to shreds before you’d lift the blade yourself. I still remember the first time you did it, cut into that Colombian bitch whose father screwed us on a deal. Thirteen, I think she was. You threw up all over the floor after the first cut, if I remember correctly.”

His men laugh aloud at that one. I keep my head down, not game to let Vilnus see the fury in my eyes.

“Thought you’d actually hit me when I made you fuck her.” Vilnus is staring at Alexei, waiting for a reaction, but the other man just stares at him blankly out of his lone eye and doesn’t move at all. “But you got used to it after that, didn’t you, Petrovsky? Even got a bit of a taste for it. Used to be our favorite afternoon sport, didn’t it, boys? Locking Petrovsky in here and waiting for him to whip out that big cock of his and fuck whatever little virgin we threw in front of him?”

This time the laughter comes more readily, with a dark, dangerous edge that strings my nerves tighter than a piano. Somehow I just know that’s exactly what Orlov did to Alexei, used him for entertainment, over and over, until he believed he had him cowed.

But he doesn’t.

I hold on to that truth, to the man who whispered to Dima in the darkness, like the spark of hope it is.

“You’re mean.” Masha’s voice pipes up so unexpectedly I don’t have time to stop it. She’s staring at Vilnus accusingly, and with a terrifying lack of fear. From the corner of my eye I notice Alexei tense.

“Masha,” I hiss, covering her mouth with my hand. “She’s sorry,” I say hurriedly to Vilnus. “She’s young—she doesn’t understand what she’s saying.”

“Oh, I think she does.” He is smiling, a broad, fat-lipped, sickening grin. “She’s an Orlov, that one.” He crosses the room and kneels down in front of us. Close up, he’s utterly repulsive. “Tough as her papa, aren’t you, princess?”

Masha shakes her head violently, dislodging my hand. “My papa dead.”

Vilnus’s smile widens. “Oh, no, he isn’t, my little hellcat.” He prods himself in his chest. “I’myour papa, Masha.”

She frowns. “No!” She shakes her head decisively.

His hand whips out, faster than a snake, smacking her across the face hard enough for the crack to echo around the room. “Who’s your papa, Masha?”

I bite my lip with the effort of restraining myself.

Masha doesn’t answer, just stares at him, open-mouthed with shock, her eyes wide.

His hand whips out again.

Crack.

Her head is knocked sideways under the weight of his blow.

“No!” The word escapes me before I can stop it. Once it’s out, I can’t stop. “Don’t touch her again.” My voice is low and trembling. “I don’t care what you do to me. Just leave her alone.”

“Ah.” Vilnus leans forward. One pudgy hand comes out and strokes my cheek, slowly, insidiously. “I knew you’d beg for it eventually. You’ve got that look about you, Ofelia. I can always tell when a girl is coming into heat. I bet you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you? Did you like it when Petrovsky’s knife touched your fresh pussy? I think you did. I think he liked it, too. I can tell, you see. I’ve practically raised that boy.”

I’m pressed hard against the wall, but there’s no escaping his roaming hands or his insidious words. Masha seems to have realized her mistake, because she’s closed her mouth and is now simply staring at Orlov, her bright blue eyes entirely blank, like she’s gone somewhere else.

---