Page 37 of Crimson Wrath

“Put the guns down,” he demands.

Standing on a ledge beside the pit, Volkov towers over us, exuding power and sadistic pleasure. Danger and dominance ooze from him as he waves a pistol around, its metallic glint catching the dim light. The bastard has the upper hand, and he knows it.

Motherfucker.

His lips curl cruelly as he points at our teams to discard their weapons. My gaze locks with Scarlett’s, and we share a moment of understanding. She too knows that if we resist, the consequences would be bad.

Veryfuckingbad.

“Do as he says,” I call out to the others, stooping cautiously to set my own pistol on the ground.

Reluctantly, our teams obey, lowering their weapons in unison.

“Good boy.” Volkov’s words are designed to cut, but I don’t give a fuck. I know what the bastard wants. He wants me to pay. He wants retribution. He wants everyone to know what happens when someone defies Sergei Volkov.

But I’m not about to let him have any of that.

I want my son back.

“Didn’t really think this through, did you, mudak?” Volkov chuckles.

I say nothing. What the fuck did he expect? That I’m just going to let him take my life and my son’s without putting up a fight? What option did I have? It was always going to end this way.

A sound catches my attention and I look past Volkov. The pit stretches beyond him, walls roughly cut from the earth. At its center stands a beam, sunk into the soil. And bound to it, is a small shape. A shape that looks just like…

Nikolai!

“Papa!” His voice seems so small. Tremulous. “Papa, I’m scared.”

Mothefucking Volkov!

I could rip throats out at the thought of what my son had to endure at his hands.

“It’s alright, Niko. Everything is going to be alright.”

“Don’t get yout hopes up,mudak,” Volkov sneers.

My heart rips in two at the sound of Niko’s cries, desperation laced into every note.

“Stay calm, Niko. I’m going to sort this all out.” The words feel empty even to my own ears.

“Yes, stay calm, little Nikolai. Let’s sort things out with your papa, shall we?” Volkov’s voice is pure evil.

“Tell me what you want, Volkov?” My patience is wearing thin, though I know I don’t have room to negotiate here.

“You know what I want, Anton. Penance. Retribution. Blood.” He drags the last word out.

“Didn’t you get enough?”Katya… Do I really need to remind him?

“You mean your whore wife?” He laughs. “She was a screamer all right. But no, my friend. That barely covered your debt.” Time slows to a crawl as I wait for his answer.

“Then what?” I press.

“I want you on your fucking knees. To tell these men what a fool you were to defy me. That you’re not worthy of being Bratva.”

Of course, that’s what he wants. He wants to make an example out of me. To make sure that nobody leaves him like I did. It’s only fucking politics. Volkov wants to retain his power and I’m in his way.

“On your knees, motherfucker or your son is history!” He snarls.

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