Page 186 of Dance of Madness

I grit my teeth as the motherfucker grabs a fist of my hair, yanking my head back and leering down into my face.

“Or are you trying to sleep?” Levka grins, tracing the bloodied tip of his knife across my jugular.

Three of the Kalishnik guards chuckle darkly. The fourth stands to the side, his face grim as he side eyes Levka from behind.

I’m getting the sense that there’s some…confusionabout the hierarchy within the Kalishnik ranks. I’m willing to bet thatmostof the men who work for Marko are loyal to him to a degree not even the Italian mafia can fully understand.

The Bratva is like that. I mean, it’s literally Russian for “brotherhood”, and they take that shit as law. You don’t just work for aPakhan. He’s literally your father, leader, and master once you’ve been brought into the brotherhood.

Except these three fucks, and I’d bet a few more, don't seem to have gotten the memo that it’sMarkowho’s in charge—notLevka, even if he sat on the throne temporarily while Marko was in treatment four years ago.

“See?” Levka smirks to his men. “His eyes are closing.”

“The only thing putting me to sleep is your fucking voice,” I growl. “Blah, blah, fuckingblah. For fuck’s sake, Levka, do youevershut?—”

Blood explodes from my mouth and sprays the floor as my head snaps sideways.

Worth it—and for the record, I'm not sleepy. It’s just that there’s so much goddamn blood running down my face that it’s hard to keep them open.

He hits me once. Twice. I grunt as he grabs my hair, bringing the edge of his blade back to my throat.

“As much fun as this is,” he purrs, “I think the game has run its course.”

“I don’t think your brother would be too pleased?—”

“What does or does not please my brother is not my concern right now,” Levka spits. “Things sometimes get out of control during a torture,da? Maybe you tried to escape, and, well...” He shrugs eloquently. “Things happen.”

I tense as the blade presses to my jugular.

“Sir…” The odd man out—the guard who clearly isn’t sucking Levka’s dick like the others—steps forward. “Mr. Kalishnik ordered us to leave him be until he returns.”

Levka whirls on the man. “What is your last name?”

The guard tightens his stance, but stands tall. “Damaskin, sir.”

“And do you know whatmylast name is?” Levka snarls. “FuckingKalishnik.”

He backhands the guard, almost knocking him off his feet. The other three snicker as Levka straightens up.

“Next time you question my authority, I’ll send men to Russia to kill your fucking mother. Understand?”

The man nods stiffly. “My apologies, sir.”

Levka dismisses him with a grunt, turning back to me. “Where were…ahhh, yes.”

The blade goes to my throat again and Levka grins at me.

“I take it you liked my home video,” he rasps.

My body hums with violence as I glare through the dripping blood at him.

“Though you didn’t do what you were supposed to do.” He clucks his tongue. “Never send a pussy Italian to do a Russian’s job. Seems I’ll have to?—”

The door to the cinderblock-walled room slams open. Levka whirls, and my eyes widen when Marko storms in with Rurik.

…And she’s right behind them.

Milena.

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