Page 47 of Broken Sins (Volkov Bratva 3)

The dead, broken face of my uncle Marco stared back at me.

My brothers came to stand by my shoulders. Each of them had the same reaction. They saw who it was, grimaced, and spat on the ground behind us.

“Who did this?” Leo asked in a quiet voice. No one answered. We Biancis had many enemies, though few of them were bold enough to strike so close to the heart of our family. There would be hell to pay for this. In the coming days and weeks, many people were going to die.

“We’ll figure that out later,” Sergio said. “For now, we need to move the body before Father sees. This is no way for any man to find his brother.”

“Sergio is right,” Vito announced. “Grab blankets from the trunk. We will take him to the basement. Quickly, before Father returns home.”

“Too late,” Dante announced grimly. We all turned to follow his voice and saw him looking down the drive.

A pair of headlights had appeared beyond the gates. As we watched, the gates swung open to admit Father’s vehicle. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose as his car wound through the craggy old trees and came to a halt just behind the sedan we’d arrived in. The uniformed driver popped out and hurried around to open Father’s door.

Our father emerged from the back seat. He looked like what he was—Giovanni Bianci, don of the most powerful Mafia in the western United States. Tall, proud, elegant. Not yet graying, not yet crippled. That would come later.

He strode towards us, calling over as he went, “Why are my drunken fool sons standing at the foot of the stairs with their cocks in their hands?” He had what passed for a smile on his face—until he shouldered past us and saw the body sprawled on the gravel.

The blood drained from his skin. “Marco,” he whispered. He fell to his knees and grabbed his dead brother’s hand. “Marco, oh, for fuck’s sake.”

I’d never seen that kind of emotion from him. My father had cut a fearsome figure for as long as I could remember. He was a god of war, a grim reaper. Stoic to the core.

But not now. The death of his brother had undone him. And there was nothing for any of us to do but stand there and watch as our father cried out to the heavens and offered to trade his brother’s life for his own.

No god answered his prayer.

* * *

I check the security cameras. The coast is clear. It’s time.

I have to make my move now, before my brothers do anything stupid. Once upon a time, we were thick as thieves. We were an indivisible unit. Now, though, I fear that we are fragmented beyond repair. But that is an issue for another day.

Tonight, I need to talk to Milaya.

Standing from my seat in the study, I exit the room and lock it behind me before proceeding to the spiral staircase at the rear of the great room. My brothers are each squirreled away in their own sections of the castle. Still, I am careful not to make too much noise lest I draw unwanted attention.

I sweep aside the tapestry and go down the stairs. My footsteps echo in the drafty space. I still get the shivers every time I descend into the dungeon. Too many bad things have happened down here not to feel the presence of the lost souls whose lives ended on these stones.

The stairs deposit me into the torture chamber. It looks as it always does—jagged, poorly lit, with leather and metal tools strewn about the floor space. Milaya’s cell is the one four doors down on the right. I pluck the key from my pocket, walk down, and unlock it.

She is shivering inside, curled up in one corner like a stray cat. I stand still for a moment and watch her. But I don’t have much time to waste.

“Get up.”

She rolls over and blinks at me. I wonder briefly if we have pushed her too far. Three days of no food and no water might have been excessive. It was Dante’s idea, of course, but Vito and Leo eventually acquiesced. I was the only one to argue against it. Little good it did me—or her, for that matter. She looks wan and weak. I hope the protein bar and bottle of water I brought for her are enough to screw the head back on her shoulders. I need her to be present and alert for what comes next.

Seeing that she won’t get up on her own—or can’t—I enter and crouch down. A thought crosses my mind—is she playing me? Does she have a weapon of some kind? We searched her before putting her back in the cell, of course, but who knows what sliver of rock she may have pried up from the floor to stab me with. She keeps staring into my eyes though, and I realize that mentally, she is far away from here. She is not a threat right now.

I lower myself to a seat on the floor next to her before offering the blanket that we took from her at the beginning of her punishment. I tell myself to avert my gaze, but it’s drawn to her body like a magnet. Her bare hips are curvy and feminine, rising to that petite waist, to breasts pale and unblemished. They each peak in a ghostly nipple, so faint it is almost invisible.

Finally, my eyes settle on her face. Despite the fog of hunger and thirst clouding her, I still see what I saw that first night in the hotel room—the flicker of undeniable intelligence. I feel my cock stir. It takes every ounce of willpower to coax myself back on track, instead of just pinning her against the wall and fucking the daylights out of her.

Dante thinks that I don’t have the same hunger he does. But what he doesn’t see is that I merely do a better job of hiding it. I tame it and make it work for me instead of the other way around.

Still, there is no denying that it wants this girl.Iwant this girl.

“Eat,” I order softly once the blanket is wrapped around her. She takes the offered protein bar with trembling fingers. When she tries to tear the wrapper open, though, she can’t even get it started. My frown deepens. I pray again silently that we are making the right choices with her. She is far too valuable to lose so carelessly. We almost lost her once through sheer negligence. Losing her to needless cruelty would be a tragic mistake.

“Here.” I trade her the bottle of water for the bar she cannot open. I make sure to unseal the cap before handing it to her. She takes a greedy suckle of it at once.

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