Page 22 of The Bratva's Secret Baby

The beating lasted for a while before I had my fill. As much as I’d have loved for the fucker to die, I had other businesses to take care of.

Stepping forward, I tossed my cigar on the sandy floor and crushed it underneath the sole of my suede shoe. “Enough!”

My men stepped back at my command, giving way to the guy lying helplessly on the floor. I took a step forward and lowered myself to a squat in front of him, then I took in how badly he’d been beaten.

Bruised, swollen, and purple skin covered most of his eyes. Blood poured down his nose, dripping on his white shirt. His breath hitched as I grabbed his shirt and raised him. One more punch and he was as good as dead.

Very few people had ever gotten away alive after they stole from me, and he was lucky to be one of the few. “Listen, Harris. I’m letting you live for one reason only. I need my money paid in full by midnight. Understood?”

He nodded weakly, his body trembling under my grip.

“Don’t think of doing anything stupid, my man,” I warned him, anger coursing through my bloodstream at the fact that he dared to steal from me. “If you do, I’ll kill everyone you care about. One by one, and when I’m finished with them, I’ll find you.”

I didn’t care to add what would happen if I found him. He’d worked for me for seven fucking years. He knew what would happen if I found him, and he knew it wouldn’t be anything pretty.

Rubbing his palms together, he begged, “I’ll bring your money back, boss. All of it. Please don’t hurt my family. Please.”

I sneered at how pathetic he looked begging. Idiots like him never used their brains when they needed to. “You should’ve thought of that before you stole from me.”

“I’m sorry, boss. I’m sorry.”

Tossing him aside, I straightened up and stroked invisible particles of filth from the jacket of my suit. “Midnight,” I added, then I nodded to the other men to drag him away.

“You’re growing soft, boss.”

“Say that one more time…” I turned to Fyodor, my gaze red from his insult. “…and you’ll find out just how soft I’ve become.”

“You wouldn’t have let him get off so easily a few years ago. You’ve changed.”

Right. I had changed. Before I had met Rosanne, or before she infected me with… I sighed, refusing to let my thoughts go any further.

Fyodor’s infuriating comment had nothing to do with the fact that I’d let Harris go. It had everything to do with Rosanne and the decisions I made a long time ago.

Rather than kill her the first night I met her, I took her home and fucked her. When the chance to punish her arose at the Varkov Mansion, I simply let her go with just a warning.

Fyodor knew better than anyone else that I wasn’t the type to let anyone go so easy, and that fueled his opinion now. “Change is inevitable.”

“Change will get you killed, boss.” Worry creased his deep smile lines. “These fuckers will keep testing the waters if you let them. They’ll try and see how much they can get away with.”

“You don’t get to tell me how to run my business, Fyodor. You report to me, not the other way around.”

“I’m sorry, boss. I’m only concerned for your safety.”

Fyodor had been with me for years before I became the top guy for out-of-state operations of the Bratva. I wouldn’t consider him a friend, but he was the closest thing to a friend I had.

We’d started our journey with brutality and violence, and while he’d gotten addicted to all the bloodshed and had a craving for it, I preferred to keep my hands clean, I made that decision years ago.

“There’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

“Let’s talk in my office.” Once we were in my office, I walked over to a mini bar in a corner and grabbed an unfinished bottle of whiskey and a glass. I poured myself a swig of whiskey. “What’s the matter?”

“We got the cops on our back, boss. They’ve been snooping around our clubs and at some of our businesses.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “They might have found more evidence about The Circle.”

I drank a sip of my whiskey. “We settled the cops, didn’t we?”

“We did, but one of the detectives is bent on dragging us through hell,” he said. “His name is Kendrick Smith, and he looked pretty confident he could take us down.”

“Is there anyone tipping them off?”

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