Chapter 19 – Jennie
My head throbs.
Pain pulses through my skull in harsh, unforgiving waves. I blink hard, trying to see, but it’s so dark that all I make out are shadows layered over more shadows. The air is cold. Musty. Smells like rust and old oil.
My wrists burn. They’re tied tightly behind the back of a chair, the coarse rope biting into my skin every time I shift. My ankles are bound, too. I test the limits—tug once, twice—but it’s useless. The ropes don’t budge.
Something warm drips past my eyebrow.
Blood.
I lower my head slightly and try to breathe through the fear clawing at my lungs. There’s a cut on my forehead—must’ve happened when that bastard hit me. My hair’s sticky. My vision’s still fuzzy. And my mouth tastes like metal.
My heart starts to race.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Hours? A whole day? It’s impossible to tell. There are no windows. No sound except the occasional creak of some far-off pipe or shifting beam. The silence is worse than any noise.
The panic bubbles in my chest, threatening to overtake me—but I force it down.
Think, Jennie. Think.
Adrian. He’ll come for me.
He has to.
Even when I’m mad at him. Even when I question every part of who he is—there’s one thing I’ve never doubted: If someone lays a hand on me, Adrian will make them pay.
A harsh breath leaves me.
Will he, though? I questioned his ability to protect me. I told him I didn’t care about him. He told me he loved me, and I threw it back in his face. Will he come for me? I don’t know.
Maybe he’ll use this to teach me a hard lesson. Tears prick eyes.
Footsteps distract me from tears, and I pause. The steps are slow and deliberate. They echo across the concrete floor, each one slicing into the silence like a knife. I lift my head, forcing my eyes to focus, and then I see him.
A tall man steps out from the shadows.
He’s not wearing a mask anymore.
His face is hard—sharp jawline, hollow cheeks, and eyes like stone. Cold. Dead.
He flicks on an overhead light, and I shut my eyes briefly as the harsh light floods the room. When I open them again, the overhead light buzzes above him, casting flickering shadows over his features. He doesn’t look familiar, but something about the way he stares at me is like he knows me.
He stops just a few feet away from me, arms folded behind his back, head tilted slightly like I’m some science experiment he’s observing.
“So. You’re Adrian’s wife,” he finally says, voice deep, rough around the edges like he chews glass for breakfast. “I thought you’d look more…vicious. More like him.”
I say nothing.
He steps closer.
“You’re prettier than I expected, though,” he continues, and there’s a sick sort of smile tugging at his mouth.
“Who are you?” My voice cracks, but I force strength into it.
He lowers himself to my level, crouching in front of me. “Yegor,” he says simply. “A name your husband has probably scrubbed from every file he owns. But we’re family. Distant cousins—Rusnak blood runs through my veins just like his.”
He pauses.
“You know your husband is a murderer, right? A bastard!”
I take a deep breath and try to stay calm.
“My brother, Valentin, was loyal to the Bratva. One of the few who stood beside Adrian when shit went south during the internal conflict ten years ago.” His voice turns to ice. “But Adrian turned on him. Killed him. Left his body rotting in a snow ditch like he never mattered.”
I feel my stomach twist. “Why—why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” he says, standing up again, “Adrian never told you, did he? That’s the kind of man you married. The kind who eliminates his own blood without flinching. The kind who builds power on betrayal.”
My mouth is dry. “You don’t know him.”
“I know enough. And I know exactly how to hurt him.” He leans down, whispering coldly near my ear. “Through you.”
I flinch.
“And your brother? Logan? He was never the target. Just bait. Collateral. You’re the real prize. The real wound I plan to slice open.”
His words send chills down my spine. He straightens again and walks away slowly, like he’s already won.
“I’ll let Adrian know when to come,” Yegor calls out before disappearing back into the shadows. “And when he does, maybe I’ll let you watch me kill him too.”
“He won’t come for me,” I say quietly, forcing the words past the pounding in my head.
Yegor turns slowly, pausing in the doorway. “What was that?”
I lift my chin, even though everything hurts. “You’re wasting your time. Adrian won’t come for me.”
His mouth curves into a twisted smile, but there’s no humor in it. Just cruel certainty. He strolls back toward me, slow and deliberate, until he’s standing right in front of me again.
“Oh, Jennie,” he says, like I’m some pitiful thing. “You really don’t know, do you?”
I blink at him, frowning.
“He’s obsessed with you.” His voice is sharp, certain, laced with something that almost sounds like disgust. “Your face is probably the only thing keeping that man sane. He’s torn half the city apart just to keep you safe—and now that someone’s taken you?
” Yegor leans in closer. “He’ll come. He’ll burn the world if that’s what it takes.
He’ll walk through hell itself just to get to you. ”
My breath catches in my throat.
No.
He grins faintly. “I didn’t care about Logan at first. He was just a loose thread. Useless. An excuse.” He crouches in front of me now, his tone turning confessional. “But then I realized…Adrian cared. And when a man like him protects someone that hard—it means something.”
He leans in closer. His breath is warm against my face. “It meant you.”
My stomach drops.
“I knew if I threatened Logan, Adrian would show his hand. I thought I’d lure him out, kill him, finish what should’ve been done years ago when he took my brother’s life.
” Yegor’s voice lowers, almost a whisper.
“But he kept shielding Logan. Hiding him. Risking everything to protect him.” He cocks his head, studying me. “And do you know why?”
Oh no!
I’m such an ingrate.
As Yegor’s dead eyes drill into mine, all I can think about is how I called out Adrian’s protection and accused him of doing nothing for Logan. Even after he promised me so many times that he would protect him.
“Because of you.” He backs away. “Every move he’s made, every decision—was for you, Jennie. The one thing he cares about. And that’s the fucking point.”
Something cracks open in my chest.
It’s not affection in Yegor’s voice. It’s venom.
He hates me. Because Adrian loves me.
And that’s when I know. Really know—this man is completely unhinged. And he won’t let me walk out of here alive if it means he doesn’t get what he wants.
I draw in a breath, quiet and slow, willing my hands not to tremble. I can’t wait for Adrian.
I can’t just sit here like a pawn between men who see me as a tool in their war.
If I want to survive this, I need to move. I need to think. I need to act. Before it’s too late.
To my satisfaction, Yegor continues talking. While he talks, I think, glancing around with my peripheral vision for anything that can help me get out of here.
“At first,” he says coolly, “I thought I could turn you against him. Make you hate him. All I needed was to plant a little doubt, twist a few truths, let you see the monster in him.”
He shrugs. “But it turns out that’s not so easy, is it?”
My breath catches in my throat.
He smirks. “You’ve already seen the monster, haven’t you? You know what he’s done. Who he is. You still didn’t run.”
His tone is darker now.
“Maybe you’re just like him, huh?”
I meet his gaze. Maybe I am. Because I love Adrian, too. Beyond reasonable doubt.
“I’ve been watching you both,” he says. “I see the way you look at him. Like maybe, just maybe, you see something worth loving. That’s dangerous. That’s what makes him human. And that’s what makes you a threat to my revenge.”
His hand lifts, and he taps a finger to his temple.
“So I changed the plan. I’ll use you differently now. Not as a wedge. As bait.”
He smiles, slow and sickening.
“You’re not going to turn on him. But I can still make him come running. And when he does…I’ll be ready.”
I realize Yegor likes to talk, and I decide to use this trait against him. I remember something my psychology professor once said in class during a discussion on sociopaths: They love the sound of their own voice. Let them speak, and you’ll learn everything you need to escape.
My wrists ache from the restraints, my head throbs, and there’s blood caked at my temple—but I force myself to breathe evenly. To not cry. To not scream. Instead, I need to act.
Yegor paces in front of me now, his boots thudding softly against the concrete floor of the warehouse. He thinks he has all the time in the world.
So I lift my chin and speak—my voice calm, slow, intentional.
“You seem…intelligent,” I say, carefully. “Strategic. Not like some of the impulsive people I’ve seen attack Adrian.”
That gets his attention. His head tilts, and he smirks, walking closer.
“Is that your way of trying to flatter me, sweetheart?”
I shrug, though it makes my shoulder scream in pain. “I’m just saying it takes a certain type of brilliance to go undetected in a Bratva circle. Especially one as tight as Adrian’s. Most people don’t even survive a month around him.”
He chuckles. “Now that’s true.”
I keep going, noting how he preens under the praise, how his eyes light up at the mention of his own cunning.
“You’ve clearly been planning this for a long time,” I say. “You didn’t just want Adrian dead. That would’ve been easy. This is…personal.”
“It is,” Yegor agrees, coming closer until he crouches in front of my chair again.
“My brother—dead by his hands. No one ever talks about that, do they? No one questions Adrian Rusnak. But I knew I’d get my chance.
And when I found out about you….” His eyes roam my face, making my skin crawl. “You were the perfect lever.”
I force my features to stay soft, passive.
“Your brother, what was his name again?”
Yegor frowns. His head tilts, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t know,” I lie. “Maybe because…I’ve lost people too. Maybe because I know what grief feels like.”
He stares at me for a long time, like he’s trying to see through me, peel back my words, and catch the manipulation underneath. But there’s truth buried in what I said. And I think he knows that.
He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “Valentin.”
I nod slowly, filing the name away. “He must have been…someone important to you.”
“He was the best of us,” Yegor mutters, jaw tight.
“He had discipline. Honor. Loyalty. Everything Adrian pretends to have. But Adrian—he didn’t like competition.
He didn’t like someone else rising in the ranks.
So he set him up. Turned the others against him.
Then killed him when no one was looking. ”
A flicker of emotion crosses his face. Real pain. Real loss. It throws me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He chuckles bitterly. “Don’t be. You weren’t the one who slit his throat and burned his body like trash.”
My stomach turns, but I manage to keep my voice soft. “Maybe if you told Adrian…maybe if you—”
“I don’t want justice,” Yegor snaps, stepping closer. “I want retribution. I want Adrian to suffer the way I did. I want to see the light go out of his eyes when I take everything he cares about.”
My heart beats faster, but I keep my expression still.
I glance at the shadows behind him, at the faint light seeping through the slats in the warehouse wall.
I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know how long I’ve been here.
But I know Adrian. And I know he’s already tearing the city apart for me.
“Tell me about Nikolai,” I say quickly, gently. “What was he like? What did he want?”
Yegor frowns, but again, he doesn’t stop me. He circles around the chair like a predator, but his voice softens, just a fraction.
“He was serious. Focused. Smarter than the rest of us. He didn’t want war, not really. He wanted structure. He wanted respect. He thought the Bratva could be more than just blood and bullets.”
I nod again, listening, watching. “And you believed in him.”
“He was my brother.”
That comes out raw. And for a moment—just one sliver of a second—I see the man beneath the monster.
“You know Logan?” I laugh lightly. “He’s my brother. My only brother. I’ll do anything for him. Anything.”
Yegor appears in front of me again, a wild grin on his face. “Will you turn on Adrian for him?”
“In a heartbeat.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Fucking liar. I see right through you. You don’t fool me.”
I barely have time to react.
Yegor grabs a strip of duct tape from the table beside him and slaps it over my mouth before I can protest. The adhesive burns my skin, yanks at the small hairs on my face, sealing off any words I might’ve said.
I let out a muffled sound, thrashing weakly, but it’s useless.
My head is pounding, the blood loss making my vision spin.
He stares at me, and there’s something gleeful in his eyes now. Something deranged.
“You’re smart,” he says, tapping a finger against my forehead like it’s some kind of compliment. “But not smart enough to get out of this.”
I glare at him through the haze of pain and fear. He smiles.
“When I’m done with Adrian,” he whispers, “when I’ve destroyed him from the inside out, I’m going to ship you off to one of the rival syndicates we’ve been at war with for years.
They’ll love having a Rusnak wife in their hands.
Maybe they’ll carve their name into your skin.
Maybe they’ll break you piece by piece. And maybe I’ll send him the videos, just for fun. Before I cut off his head.”
I flinch. My heart stutters. Rage and terror tangle inside me until I can barely breathe.
He stands, brushing imaginary dust off his coat.
“But first,” he says, already turning toward the warehouse door, “it’s time to invite your husband into the mix.”
He doesn’t look back.
I hear the heavy clang of the metal door as it shuts behind him, leaving me alone in the dark with the sound of my own ragged breathing echoing in my ears.