Page 6 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

When my sister Nadia was found dead, her body beaten and bruised beyond recognition, it took me some months to trace back all her steps. And they all led me to Malcome Schmidt. The more I dug, the more sickening things I found about the man.

All the marks on my sister’s body were consistent with things Malcome did to his women. Burn marks, cuts, whipped back… it made me sick to think about all of it. Nadia was nobody to him, just a tool for him to get off with in a sick way. But he’d remember her… it would be the last name on his lips before I cut his throat.

To this day, I couldn’t understand why my sister didn't come to me for help. Why didn’t she tell me she was dating him and he was hurting her? I would have hunted him down, burned down his entire fucking empire… consequences be damned. If only I knew! She’d still be alive and that fucking asshole would be six feet under.

The last time I saw that bastard was two years ago when Dimitry and I bought a company under his nose. He was going after a small satellite company; eager to crush any potential competition. He wanted to monopolize the market, but he got more competition than he could handle because that year we bought out every single satellite company from under him.

That man thought himself untouchable; he believed he could get away with murder. But I won’t let him get away with it. He would pay for every scar and bit of pain he caused any woman.

My eyes traveled to Olivia Fray’s photo. How much has she endured? Was she hiding because she had scars she didn’t want the world to see? But then I remembered the tiny sparkly dress she wore in the footage at Russian Orchid, her body exposed. Maybe she managed to escape unscathed.

I hope she didn’t have to experience any of that shit,I prayed silently.

“What about her parents?” I asked Ilya.

“Their mother never leaves the house,” he answered. “We got information from the cook she barely functions, her mind not present. Sounds like depression to me. Something is definitely not right in that house. Now, the father is something else.”

I could tell by Ilya’s tone he didn’t like the man.

“Yes?” I urged him.

“The father is a Supreme Court judge,” he explained, but that was no news to me. “He gambles often, drinks, and has a different hooker with him every week. The cook called him a ‘violent bastard that shouldn’t be a father.’ The woman wouldn’t give any concrete information due to the confidentiality agreement he forced his employees to sign but I’m positive the man is violent and beats his wife and daughter”

Rage rose within me. And this was a man that was supposed to be representing justice.

“We’ll take him down too,” I retorted dryly.And we will enjoy it, I added silently. “Try and have Oliver Fray here tonight. We need him to lose a lot of money and be here every night till we get Olivia to pay us a visit.”

“Got it, boss,” Ilya agreed, rubbing his hands with a cat ate the mouse smile.

“And Ilya, the party that Olivia Fray will be attending,” I started, “have one of our men working the party and keep an eye on her. And find a way to leak information to Olivia Fray that her brother is gambling at our table. I want her to seek him out at our casino.”

“Absolyutno,” he replied in Russian. We would get both young Frays into my casino and then let the games begin.

Chapter Three

Olivia

Three Days Later

“I’m not going to his party, Dad.” I had been home barely two weeks, endured the shock of my best friends being kidnapped, and all my father cared about was that I made an appearance at Malcome’s party. Because he demanded it.

“Yes, you are,” he spat out, his face turning red in anger. “You and I are going together. If I have to, I’ll drag you by your hair.”

I stared at this man that was my father… correction, he was supposed to be my father. He didn’t act anything like a father. The only one he cared about was himself. He was just a sperm donor.

“You might just have to do that,” I fought back. “Maybe we can show the world what this is really about. I’m not going to that party.”

I turned on my heel and rushed out of the dining room. So much for a simple breakfast in the morning.

I didn’t make it out of the room before I heard my father’s words. “Then I’ll take your mother.”

My step froze midair and I stood still. I wanted to turn around and face him, tell him off. Instead, I remained still, unable to move or see the knowledge on my father’s face. He knew Malcome’s twisted games but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care less if Malcome was hurting Mom or me.

It shouldn’t surprise me that my father cared so little but it still pained me to know it.

“Fine, I’ll be ready.” My own voice sounded dead, flat to my ears. Living in this house was slowly killing me, but I knew once I lived with Malcome it would be even worse.

I saw my mom approaching, her step slow, her head hung, and my heart twitched for her. She used to be a beautiful woman. Her love for my father destroyed her, leaving an empty shell.

---