Page 72 of Corrupted Pleasure
“Lovely,” I drawled. “Tie them all up.”
While my men worked on tying them up, I strode over to the supposed leader. He didn’t look like much. He was older than me with salt-and-pepper gray and a matching beard. He was probably approaching his sixties.
Too old to be in this kind of shit. Yet, it told me that he’d probably worked for Volkov a long time. Yes, I was making an assumption and I’d need a verbal confirmation. Assumptions got you killed.
“Who do you work for?” I demanded to know.
Nothing.
I pulled out my knife and I gave him a sardonic smile. “Let’s do this the hard way then, shall we?”
Quinn came behind him and grabbed his head, then gripped it tight.
I pushed the tip of the blade against his cheek and sliced it open. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the warehouse. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his shirt.
“Next is your eye,” I drawled, giving him a heads up with a menacing grin.
“Do the right eye,” Quinn suggested. “He seems to favor his right side.”
I pretended to seriously consider it.
“That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “But I think we should torture all of them at the same time. It’s only fair. After all, this is a democracy. We aren’t in Russia.”
A round of snickering by my men followed.
“Wait.” One of the men screamed. “We were just hired to get the truck and bring it here.”
“By who?”
“A Russian.”
I scoffed. “There are millions of Russians in this world. How about you narrow it down?”
“Will you let us go if we tell you?”
The guy with the beard spat something in Russian at the other guys.
“I’ll set you free.”Lie.
A brief shared glance among the Russians. “Pakhan Volkov.”
Fuck! Couldn’t it be any other Russian? But then, I’d already known the answer all along. I’d just hoped it was someone else.
“What does he want with my equipment?” I asked, though did it really matter? I already knew what his main goal was. Volkov would never stop, not until either he was dead or all the Brennans. And anyone that worked for us.
“He wants his granddaughter.”
“She’s dead,” I told him. To the world, Aisling Brennan died over twenty years ago. “And so are you.”
I pulled out a gun from the back of my pants, lifted it and fired. Their bodies slumped forward in their chairs and I put my gun in the back of my pants.
“Clean this up,” I told my men as Quinn and I turned to walk out the door.
CHAPTER32
Liam
“She what?” I barked into the phone, Dante and Basilio DiLustro on the other end of the call. I had yet to go to sleep after the whole warehouse fiasco. I retrieved the stolen shipment and stored it in Cassio’s warehouse, then waited for Nico’s updates. “Are you fucking with me?”
