Page 5 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
With a crisp white napkin, I dabbed the corners of my mouth, inhaling the mix of wine, sweat, and blood that wafted through the air. Delicious.
The hanging man was a punching bag for Oleg and Dmitri. They sure took their time with him, reveling in his agony.
I rolled my neck in a massaging motion and slowly rose to my feet, fingers adjusting my tie. My polished shoes scuffed against the floor as I walked over to my victim, my footsteps quiet and unhurried.
Oleg signaled Dmitri, and they both stepped back, letting him breathe for a moment.
I halted before him, eyes fixed on his battered face, my expression cold and unreadable.
“Boss,” he called softly. “Show mercy—”
“Why?” I asked.
He went silent, completely caught off guard, rambling for words.
“Give me one good reason why I should show you mercy,” I added, my intense gaze still unwavering.
His throat wobbled, eyes struggling to stay open. “I’m of more use to you alive than dead,” he said, his tone laced with skepticism and fear.
Evenhedidn’t seem convinced by his own words.
Idiot.
“You overestimate your importance, Yegor,” I said, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You stole from me.”
“I’ll pay it back, I swear to God.” His desperate voice rose at this point, cracking under the weight of his fear. “Two weeks. That’s all I ask for.”
I clicked my tongue in contempt, going around him in circles, slow and deliberate, each step fueling his terror. “You think this is about the money? You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
The chains rattled overhead as he dangled, toes scraping the floor for balance.
I halted in front of him, cold as ice. “Loyalty is non-negotiable. And you, Yegor, have proven that you cannot be counted on.”
“No, please, I’m begging you—I have a pregnant wife…. I stole the money because of her!” he exclaimed, probably hoping that would somehow soften my stone-cold heart.
Indeed, he was a bigger idiot than I thought.
My brows knitted together, faint creases forming between them. One thing I hated aside from betrayal was lies, especially the ones told to save one’s skin.
Did he really think that I didn’t do my homework on him? Did he think that I didn’t know all there was to know about all of my men?
He dared lie to my face. Coward.
Yegor didn’t have a wife, let alone a pregnant one. And I had video evidence of how he blew the money he stole from me at a fuckin’ casino. The fool had no idea that I had a record of all the girls he wasted my money on: each and every last one of them. I knew all their names and addresses.
“Your wife?” I asked, eyes boring into his.
He swallowed hard, unaware of the trap he was about to walk right into.
“Yes, Boss.” He nodded. Desperate. “She’s pregnant with my child.”
A soft scuff escaped my mouth, and before I could make any moves, I heard a familiar set of footsteps approaching from behind.
Viktor stopped beside me, leaning to whisper in my ear. “Boss. Sorry to interrupt. But there’s something I think you should see.” He handed me an iPad.
Viktor was one of my most loyal men, but he wasn’t my right-hand man. That role belonged to Luka, but he was away, handling some private Bratva business elsewhere.
My eyes squinted at the lit screen, brows furrowing at the picture he showed me. Someone had taken a photo of me in a warehouse.
