Page 50 of Twisted Obsession
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dmitri
Just as Angelo said, he sent the invitation to the mansion for Lara and me, along with a red mask for Lara and a black one for me. The masquerade gala was to take place at the Museum of the City of New York. It was being hosted by Phantom Conglomerate. How fitting. No wonder Andrei was able to keep himself hidden all these years. Inside the box, with Lara’s mask, was a note.
MAKE SURE SHE NEVER TAKES THE MASK OFF. SHE CAN’T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON. ANDREI ALWAYS WEARS A TUX WITH A RED BOW TIE. YOU CAN’T MISS HIM. I WILL TAKE MY SISTER WHEN THE TIME COMES. GOOD LUCK.
I stared down at the note with one thought in mind:Tomorrow night would be the last time Andrei Zhukov ever drew breath. I had been waiting so long to avenge my father’s death and now my wait was almost over. I wouldn’t be givinghim the same quick death he gave my father. His death would be slow and agonizing. I wanted him to feel every single ounce of pain I had felt over the last three years since he took my father from me.
“We’ve found Edgar Romanoff.” Stepan entered my study with the best news I’d heard in a while. “We are keeping him at the warehouse.”
“Has he spoken yet?” I asked, rolling down my sleeves before slipping on my suit jacket.
“No, but he will.” Stepan reassured me. There were many ways to make a man talk.
Edgar Romanoff was sitting on a metal chair that was bolted to the floor with his hands and legs secured to the arms and legs of the chair. Based on Yuri’s hands, he already had his fun with our prisoner.
I removed my suit jacket and handed it to Stepan. He wouldn’t be getting his dirty this time. Removing my Rolex watch, I placed it on the metal cart next to all the tools we used to get information out of our prisoners. Before grabbing a pair of needle nose pliers, I rolled up my shirt sleeves.
“Edgar, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” I reminded him, holding the pliers in my hand.
“What are you going to do with those?” he asked as he looked down at my hand with his one good eye, the other swollen shut.
“Pain can be very persuasive. Did you know that removing the nail can be quite painful, and it has been a form of torturefor many centuries?” I informed him, giving him a little history lesson.
Spreading his fingers out, I took hold of his index finger, opened the pliers, and clamped down on his nail before pulling it from his finger. The skin beneath turned red and his screams of pain fill the empty space in the warehouse.
“You motherfucker,” he cursed, his Russian accent more prominent.
“And to think, I have nine more to go. Now tell me, who paid you to deliver the shipment of weapons to Cuba?”
“Fuck you.”
“Have it your way.” I clamped down on his middle finger, pulling the fingernail from the skin with the same amount of force.
With every nail I pulled from his fingers, his screams filled the warehouse, but he still wouldn’t break. There was one thing I knew about Russians. We were tough, but when it came to family, we would die for them.
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I pulled up the photo Stepan had shared with me on the drive to the warehouse. I must say, Edgar had a beautiful family. It would be a shame if anything happened to them.
I placed the pliers on the metal table and turned to face him. Lifting his head, I pointed my cell toward him to make sure he saw the photo of his family.
“Do you know why my men do not have any family?” I asked with a tinge of regret. Not for Edgar, but for my men. “It’s because family can be your greatest weakness.”
Edgar shook his head because he knew he couldn’t risk the lives of his family for loyalty to his boss. “It was Kumar Petrov. He requested the transportation of the shipment to Cuba. Please don’t….”
Before Edgar could finish his statement, I picked up the gun from the metal table and pulled the trigger. His head fell back, leaving a puddle of blood behind his chair.
“Make sure you clean this up. Bring Kumar to me.”
I left the warehouse feeling betrayed. Kumar was the Bratva’sVor—an honorary title given to him my father. He taught me how to use a knife and how to protect myself. Last I knew, he was back in the motherland on assignment. I just couldn’t believe he would do this.
~***~
I walked inside the mansion with Stepan on my heels. The mansion was too quiet. I aways hated the quiet. Marta appeared at the top of the stairs carrying a hamper full of soiled linens.
When she reached the bottom, she appeared more disgusted than usual. Nodding her head, she stepped past us. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Marta,” I greeted her. “Where is Lara?”
