Page 10 of Den of Thieves

“We need the room.” She said to the night manager.

He nodded, making himself scarce. Aksana was sure he had clients to supply with drugs but put little stock into where he was headed as long as she had the large room to herself.

Aksana turned to face her aggressor, still struggling to free himself from Venchi’s grasp.

“Don’t look so scared, baby. We are only going to talk.” She nodded her head to Venchi, who tossed the man onto the beat-up leather couch before locking the door behind him.

Aksana made herself at home, rummaging through file cabinets and boxes scattered in the corner.

“P-please don’t kill me. I’m sorry!”

“What do you want me to do, boss?”

“Ah-ha!” Aksana pulled out the corded leather rope attached to a heavy metal handle she’d seen Tim stroke lovingly on more than one occasion.

“I knew Tim lied when he said he got clean.”

“Tim, the drug dealing manager?” Venchi asked dubiously.

“Tim doesn’t do drugs. He hates them, but ballet school for his daughter is expensive.”

“Getting high on your own supply is just poor business,” the man spoke up.

Aksana flicked her wrist, and the whip connected with his cheek. The resounding crack that echoed throughout the room was drowned out quickly by his cries.

“Can’t you see we are talking? Interruptions are a pain in my assholes.”

Venchi grunted in agreement.

“No, Tim is not a drug user, but everyone has a vice. Tim’s is sex.”

Venchi frowned, no doubt trying to think of a way not to insult his boss. Aksana smiled and took pity on him.

“Tim is a sex addict. I’ll give you $1000 right now if the minimized screen on his laptop isn’t porn.”

Venchi clicked on the icon and a paused video of a woman tied up and suspended above a concrete slab. Every one of her holes was filled to the brim with large, veiny appendages.

Venchi looked back at Aksana, eyebrows raised.

“Now, now, Venchi. Don’t judge. And stop looking at me like that. It pays to know your employees.” She shrugged.

“I thought Vladimir owned this club?”

*Crack*

“Again, with the interrupting,” she tsked. “Okay, so I found out Tim’s dirty little secret by accident a while ago. It’s not like I used that knowledge against him… more than twice.” She shook her head to clear her vodka filled mind. “I’m not on trial here! He is. What is your name?”

She let the whip fly again when he didn’t answer fast enough.

“Ah-it-it’s Anton.”

“Anton, why don’t you know what ‘no’ means?”

*Crack*

“Ow! I’m sorry!”

*Crack*

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