Page 53 of The Payback

As we wait upstairs for their arrival, Anya huddles close to me, peeking up to look around the closet I’ve come to think of as my office.

When the message arrives, I lead her downstairs, through the now spotless foyer, and into the lift. I press the button for the parking garage instead of the lobby, and when the doors slide open, we meet the nondescript blue car and two agents.

The woman I pass her to is calm and reassuring. With a kiss on the cheek, Anya says goodbye, and I promise her in my best broken Russian that she will be safe. In mere hours, she will be reunited with the other girls who were transported, and the agencies can start getting the girls back home.

Once Anya and the agents drive away, I dash back to the lift and haul ass upstairs. When Anya and I were leaving, it was quiet in the penthouse, but when I return, that’s no longer the case.

A garbled scream reaches my ears, followed by a loudthwack!

I round the staircase and head past the living room towards the study. I see nothing at first, but the painting with the hidden brass button behind it is out of place again. “Dimitri?” I call. “Nik?”

Nik pokes his head out of the hallway leading to the bathroom. “In here, but you don’t have to watch this.”

“Fuck that,” I counter, taking steps towards him without pause.

“Be sure, Ellie. This isn’t for the faint of heart.”

I shoulder past him, and where there was a solid wall is now an entryway leading to blackness beyond. What in the Batman secret lair is this?

Cautiously, I step inside, and right in the centre, a single light shines on a man tied to a chair. The rest of the room is shrouded in darkness. Based on where this is situated, the space can’t be massive, but without being able to see the walls, it feels endless.

The man’s head droops between his shoulders as Dimitri stands over him, a blade in hand.Not dead, then.

“You have a torture chamber?” I ask. “Why am I surprised?”

Dimitri turns, and the look on his face will haunt me for the rest of my life. Unconsciously, I spin the simple gold band on my ring finger, a habit I’ve started when I feel anxious or stressed.

He’s enraged, with red streaking his cheeks from exertion and blood. His ordinarily pale-blue eyes, which I always thought were chilling, are something else entirely. At this moment, I realise they usually burn like the centre of the hottest flame.

Nowthey’re truly freezing, like being lost in the depths of a frigid winter, with no chance of survival. One dangerous enough to paralyse me where I stand.

“This is who shot you.”

Nik moves beside me, taking up a spot against the wall and kicking one foot up behind him for support. He crosses his arms over his chest, content to watch as Dimitri doles out justice.

“Who is this?” I ask, thankful my voice doesn’t betray the tremor running through me. It’s not the grotesque scene before me that has my body on high alert and ready to flee. It’s the man holding the knife.

“Alexei.”

I do a double-take, looking at the driver who brought Dimitri and me to the penthouse on our wedding night. I haven’t seen him since then, figuring he had just been reassigned. Igor has been my driver on every outing since that night.

“The driver?” I ask incredulously.

“Hard to drive with no hands,” Dimitri says, his tone even and calm. His face bleeds indifference, and somehow, it makes everything worse. He stares down at the man in the chair, and in a flash, he has one of Alexei’s hands in his, dragging over a rolling cart with his foot. He slams the hand on the table, holding it by the palm as he lifts the knife.

Screams echo around the dark chamber as the knife hits bone, and Dimitri begins to saw.

I turn my gaze, unable to watch the emotionless Dimitri, usually so full of simmering passion, turn into this lifeless, empty shell of a man solely focused on bloodshed.

A thud sounds as the scent of burning flesh reaches my nose, and I gag. I look down, finding Alexei’s hand at my feet.

“Who sent you to kill me?” Dimitri asks. It doesn’t sound like it’s the first time, but Alexei is only blubbering and crying. Tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with the saliva and blood pouring from his mouth. The man is red-faced and shaking, cradling his stump with his intact hand.

Despite the heat of the room, Alexei shivers and shakes his head. “I don’t know!” he wails. “It was anonymous. Please,Pakhan, don’t kill me. Don’t do this. I can find out who it was!”

He pleads for everything under the sun, but Dimitri ignores it all, keeping his voice quiet so Alexei has to stop wailing to hear his interrogator. “How did they contact you?”

Alexei is sucking in deep breaths, keeping his arm against his bloodied chest. “It was a call. I got a call a few weeks ago.”

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