Chapter 3
MILA
Ivan Volkov.
That fucking bastard.
His bald head and perfectly trimmed white beard are the first things I see when the dirty hood is ripped off of my head.
The stink of the sedative has faded from it a long time ago. I thought about feigning to still be unconscious, but know that by the way I’m handled, they’re professionals.
“Normal people text, Ivan,” I spit after a cleansing breath.
My hands and feet are bound to the chair facing him.
He chuckles and tugs on the pants of his designer suit before propping his ankle onto his knee. “Well, Mila, I wanted to make sure you’d show up this time.” He pulls a cigar from a wooden box on the table next to him and trims the end. “You see—” He puffs a ring of smoke as he lights it that forms a halo around his head. “—I need your, hmm, expertise on a matter.” His thick hand, adorned with enough rings to buy a small country, gestures at my breasts. “You have all of the equipment and training needed to accomplish a task for me.”
He blows a river of thick smoke towards my hips.
I’m sure he’s emphasizing my “assets”.
Asshole.
I’d love to wrap my legs around his head. But, only to snap his neck.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t just go through the typical routes.” I’d rather Tyler talk to him, anyways. That’s what handlers are for.
This old guy gives me the creeps. I’ve heard nothing but horror stories about him, and how quickly he will double-cross anyone.
“No time. I need you to go to America. Las Vegas, specifically. And you are to get back something that was taken from me.” He waves his hand to one of his men nearby who brings forth a folder.
They’re all the same. It’s full of information, locations, times, and the target.
“I don’t know. My schedule’s pretty full. Plus, you didn’t exactly ask nicely.” My mouth twists since I can’t cross my arms.
This isn’t how this business works. I’m not a lapdog. It’s taken years to earn my reputation as a dependable for-hire.
He’s skipping steps, and it’s pissing me off.
His thick wrist waves the lit cigar in my face. “I don’t give a fuck about asking. I’m telling you what you’re going to do. And, you’re going to do it.”
Can I say no?
I try it out, mouthing the word.
Yeah, it fits.
“No.”
The furrow in his forehead deepens before a wide smile cracks across his face. “I thought you’d say that.”
He takes a long draw from his Cuban and snaps his fingers.
A pair of double doors at the far side of the hall opens, and a man in a suit pushes a wheelchair into the room.
Whoever is in the chair is bound and hooded, probably the same way I looked.
Wait. The fuzzy memories before I was attacked snap into clarity.
I was on the phone with Tyler.
Daniil was taken, and he was just about to tell me who.
The heavy black cover is lifted.
My brother’s bright blue eyes blink rapidly as he looks around the room.
“No!” This time I scream it at the laughing bearded man in front of me.
“I knew you’d change your tune.” Ivan motions for the wheelchair to be rolled closer. “You see, I know how you work. You play both sides, and think we don’t notice. I’m making you choose.” He takes a final puff and then embeds the glowing ember into the back of my brother’s bound hand.
His high pitched cry fills the marbled hall.
My stomach clenches into a tight knot.
I might puke.
“Please! Stop!” Tugging at my wrists, I try to pull my arms free, but they’re fastened tightly.
I’ll kill them all.
“See, it’s very important to me that you complete your task. You’re the best in your field, and the only one I know who can get close enough to get what I want.” Ivan drops the extinguished cigar into a crystal tray near his elbow.
“I’ll keep your baby sibling until you are done. Fail me, and I’ll send him back to you, one piece at a time.” Ivan nods to the man behind my brother.
With a neutral expression, the towering man leans over with a heavy pair of shears and snips off Daniil’s pinky finger like he’s snipping an errant stem.
“I’ll do it! Just don’t hurt him!” I want to punch and flail watching my brother’s blood sprinkling across the white floor.
Daniil’s voice goes hoarse as he continues to howl.
He’s too young for this life. I’ve tried to keep him insulated from it.
Just last week he was wanting to do more, to help Tyler plan out my mission.
But, I told him, he’s barely eighteen, he has plenty of time to fuck his life up like I did.
I wouldn’t let him start now.
Until, Ivan dragged him in.
“In Vegas, there is a powerful man who is running things there. Stay away from him.” He flips open the dossier and pulls out a full page photo. “This is the one you’re looking for. His right hand man.”
As Ivan jabs the picture on my lap, I can see the nicotine stains on his thick fingers.
“His name is Nikolai. He took my diamonds. Kill him, torture him, I don’t care. Just bring them back at any cost.”