She might not be legally my wife yet, but the moment my seed entered her womb, she was mine.
The realization entered his eyes with the knowledge he’d die here today.
“Do you know who we are?” Enrico asked, and I translated. The man closed his eyes, his lips moving soundlessly as if he was praying.
“When you fuck with the Marchettis, you get skinned alive,” I stated casually.
He stopped praying and swallowed loudly.
I continued. “There is one thing we never forgive, and that’s going after our women and families.”
He shook his head. “We didn’t know?—”
I raised my hand, silencing him. “Before I leave this room, you will tell me what Danil Popov and your boss discussed.”
“I don’t know, I swear.”
I didn’t believe him for a second. “Let’s test your knowledge, shall we?”
As if on cue, the door to the cell opened and Umbrio strutted in with another man, pulling a cart behind him, its squeaky wheels the only sound apart from our guest’s anxious breathing and unintelligible murmurs. The brazen bull sat atop the dolly’s metal tray, a contraption used by the ancient Greeks and Romans. The bull-shaped brass device was hollow and big enough to put a human inside and roast him alive. Flute-like pipes would carry his screams through the bull’s nostrils, creating animalistic music while the smoke of the scorched flesh billowed out as puffs of incense.
It’d be a slow and painful death.
Giving a nod to Umbrio, he jerked our captive out of the chair and put him into the pot, still tied.
Once the fire started, it took no time for his screams to fill the dungeon.
“What did they talk about?” I asked calmly.
“I don’t know!”
“Bullshit. Cooperate and I’ll give you a quick death.” He was trembling, eyes wide with visions of what was to come. I flicked a glance to Umbrio. “Add some heat to that fire, will you?”
He did as asked, and soon the musty room stunk of burning flesh. The man’s head was hung low, saliva dripping from his mouth.
“Tell me,” I gritted.
“I don’t know.”
Pissed off he wasn’t breaking, I reached for my knife and sliced his ear off. Blood surged down his face as he screamed again.
“I won’t stop until I get the answers I’m seeking,” I warned.
He shook his head. “Please, they spoke in English mostly. Couldn’t understand most of it.”
Cazzo.
“You said mostly,” Enrico chimed in. “What did you hear?”
When he didn’t answer, I sliced his other ear while Umbrio added an extra log to the fire. When the screams died down, I spoke again. “Tell me what was said.”
“He—they mentioned a wedding. No names.”
“And?”
“It will unite the Triads with the Balkans.”
Qian Long had no daughters or sisters, which led to one conclusion. Danil Popov planned to marry either Nicki or Athena off. Considering it was widely known that Nicki Popova was damaged goods and the woman didn’t know how to shut thefuck up, I’d put my money on Athena being the best and only choice.