Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
O nce we got back to the house, I quickly herded Drea back up to her room before my father noticed she was with me.
She wasn’t happy to be taken back to her room.
She pleaded to not be locked away again, even though it was a perfectly nice room to be locked into.
She’d dragged her feet and tried bargaining with me.
When that didn’t work, she went on the offensive, kicking and screaming at me.
Little did she know, however, that I liked it. I liked it when she fought against me. It eventually got to the point that I had to hurl her over my shoulder and carry her to the room while she beat into my back with her fists.
The entire thing gave me a sense of nostalgia, reminding me of the first time I’d met her, dragging her from Nero’s house in the same fashion.
God. That felt like a lifetime ago now.
It was easy to forget I was actually holding her hostage. Most of the time, Drea didn’t act like a prisoner. She seemed content with what was going on, just going with the flow and waiting for the meet with her brother (which I had scheduled for the day after tomorrow).
I’d messaged Juan shortly after leaving Drea the afternoon she’d called him, telling him where and when the meeting would take place. Considering I held all the leverage, he didn’t really have a leg to stand on, negotiation wise. He had no choice but to accept my conditions.
We were meeting at one of the buildings we owned downtown at noon. We were both permitted to bring one man. One . Any more than that and it would be considered an act of aggression, which meant any hope of a deal between the cartel and the Bratva would be off the table.
The ideal outcome would be a ceasefire between us, as well any assistance the cartel was providing the Outfit to stop. Immediately. If an agreement was made, it would mean Drea would be leaving with Juan.
I’d gotten so used to having her around, to being able to see her whenever I wanted that the idea of her leaving made my chest tighten with anger and distress.
But I had to put those thoughts and feelings away and deal with them later. I couldn’t afford to be distracted. I needed to be focused. Calm, in control.
And the only way I could do those things was if I put Drea far out of my mind.
“Is she awake yet?”
I turned at the sound of my father’s voice, watching as he walked into the room.
“Not yet.” I looked back at Rayna dangling from the ceiling, thick, metal chains wrapped around her wrists and pulling her arms tightly. Her bare feet barely touched the concrete floor as her body swayed lightly through the air.
A table was up against the wall. It was lined with various torture implements, all crusty and rusted with dry blood.
They served two purposes. First, to intimidate. To scare. The moment Rayna saw them, she would understand the full gravity of the situation she was in. And second, to be used on her to get her to talk.
That’s what I was looking forward to the most.
Father circled Rayna’s unconscious form, rage burning in his eyes. “Any problems bringing her in?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” I inclined my head to the two men in the corner, one with a hole in his head and the other bound by his wrists and ankles, his head slumped forward.
Father grunted. “Good. She say anything?”
“Nothing of importance. At least not yet.”
Nodding, Father moved to the table, studying the weapons with a sense of nostalgia, like they all brought forth fond memories for him.
They probably did. Father liked to torture people almost as much as I did.
“We’ll wake her when your brother gets here. How’s the boy going?”
I blew out a breath, pushing off my spot on the wall. “As well as can be expected. He’s similar to Lukyan in a lot of ways. Brimming with potential, but he lacks the drive to really tap into what he’s capable of. He handled himself well with The Dirty Vultures, even if he did throw up.”
Father chuckled. “He’ll get desensitised to that very soon.”
Yes, I suspected he would. Speaking of The Dirty Vultures…
“Any more problems with the MC?” I asked, fighting the urge to pace up and down the room. I was eager to get started. The sooner we dealt withRayna, the sooner I could get back to Drea.
Considering I only had limited time left with her, I wanted to take full advantage of it. There was a large part of me that feared that the moment she left here, that would be it. I would never see her again.
I knew she was attracted to me, knew she enjoyed the sexual aspects of our time together. But beyond that? That I wasn’t so sure of. There was this voice inside my head telling me she was only with me to help pass the time of her imprisonment, and that once she was free, she wouldn’t come back.
It made me hesitant to let her go.
What if she left with Juan and I never saw her again?
I didn’t care if she didn’t want to be here. I wanted her here, and that was all the incentive I needed to keep her.
“None,” Father answered, pursing his lips. “They’ve been very quiet since your…incident with them. Too quiet.”
I frowned at the unease lacing his voice. “You’re suspicious.”
“Very. They’re planning something. I know it. I feel it. It feels like something is about to happen, something bad.”
“If you’re worried, why don’t we just do a pre-emptive strike? Take them all out before they have a chance to make a move?”
Father considered it. “Let’s deal with this first. Once Rayna and Dominik have been dealt with, we’ll take care of them.”
I nodded. “Alright then.”
Nik jogged into the room a few minutes later, slightly out of breath, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Sorry, I got here as fast as I could.”
“Where were you?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.
He glared. “None of your business.”
He was with Tatiana.
If we were alone I would have pushed harder, but now wasn’t the time.
Since Illayana moved out, Tatiana’s visits to the house have basically been nonexistent. She still runs her usual route every day, which takes her right past our house, but that was the extent of her presence here.
If Nik was with her, it meant he’d tracked her down, and it made me curious. I would bring it up with him later.
“Let’s get to it,” Father said, cracking his neck. “Wake her up.”
Nik picked up the bucket full of piss and shit that sat in the corner (which was from the original occupant of this room before we moved them to another) and threw it all over Rayna.
She startled awake, coughing and gagging at the bodily fluids now running over her skin. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she cried, retching. Her lips quivered, her eyes darting around the room in a panic. “What are you doing?!” she shrieked, flailing wildly. “Let me go! Let me go right now!”
Father, Nik and I watched her with bored expressions, waiting for her to tire herself out, which didn’t take long. Once she settled down, Father looked at me and inclined his head towards Rayna.
Nik frowned, his gaze darting between the two of us.
I was just as confused as he was, but I refused to show it. I’d done plenty of interrogations in my life. We all had. But when Father was in the room, he always took control. He wasn’t the type to sit back and let his boys do all the dirty work. He liked to get his hands bloody like the rest of us.
Why was he all of a sudden handing over his control? First the meet with the Los Zetas and now this? What was going through his head?
I moved to stand in front of Rayna. She breathed hard, whimpering as she tried to pull her arms free.
“I’m going to give you one chance, Rayna. You tell me what I want to know and I won’t kill you.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “I don’t believe you.”
Couldn’t really blame her for that.
I moved and grasped the table holding all our torture weapons, pushing it over to Rayna. I stopped it directly in front of her, giving her plenty of time to look over them all as I ran my fingers over each one.
Pliers, knives, axes, daggers, machetes, stun belts, spiked batons, hacksaws. The list was endless.
She swallowed, fear flashing across her face.
I took my time picking the one I wanted. I had favourites (like I’m sure everybody does). The spiked baton, for example. But today I felt like getting up close and personal, so I picked up one of the curved daggers, holding it up in the air.
This would do very nicely.
“Aleksandr, wait—”
I stepped around the table until I stood in front of her.
My head tilted to the side as I studied her closely, wondering where I was going to cut first. There were just so many options.
I wanted her to hurt, to bleed. But I didn’t want her to die.
Not yet, anyway. Not until we got the answers we needed.
Rayna was as vain as they came, so I decided to start with her face.
I ran the tip of the blade across her skin, from the middle of her forehead, down the bridge of her nose to underneath her eye.
She stiffened, staying absolutely still, too scared to even breathe.
“Why did you hand Illayana over to Nero? Why did you betray us?”
She licked her lips nervously. “You’d seriously hurt me? A woman? Your own cousin ?”
“You think being a woman will save you? That being related to me will make me hesitant to hurt you?” I tsked, shaking my head in disappointment. “I really thought you knew me better than that, Rayna.”
I didn’t go out of my way to hurt women, but I also wasn’t afraid to do it if I needed to. If a woman was coming at me with a knife trying to kill me, you bet your damn ass I’d end her before she got the chance to end me.
Women were just as, if not more, dangerous than men.
“I do, I do. I know family means everything to you and I-I’m family Aleksandr, I am. I—ahhhh!”
I slashed the blade down her face, making sure to slice right through her eye. She screamed, flailing back as blood poured down her cheek.