Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
ARTEM
"S ame rules as before, but this time, you will be forthcoming. For every complete answer, I will take a bullet out of the chamber. We start with five."
I opened the gun again and Zaitsev took another shot, though he was shaking so badly he ended up wearing most of it. The clear liquid splashed down his chin and stained his already filthy shirt.
"Tell me what really happened to Dima."
He told me everything.
How Dima wasn't okay running drugs through elementary-aged children, and he was going to ruin everything. He babbled on about how Dima was a disappointment and a traitor to his name, so he had his other son kill him and take his place as heir.
I had already known most of what happened.
Dima actually had a deal on the table for his family to come under the Ivanov umbrella, but Gregor would draw the line at children. So would I.
We had planned on getting rid of Zaitsev and elevating Dima to run his family, but we hadn't moved fast enough. That was one of my deepest regrets. Men like Dima were hard to find. He was fiercely loyal, but not a drone.
Dima had not been a yes-man. He lived by his own ethics and would not bend them. Even if his moral compass didn't line up with the letter of the law, he was a good man.
I removed one bullet from the barrel. The metal warm between my fingers as I placed it on the table with deliberate precision.
"Tell me what Solovyov promised you," I said.
"If the chamber is empty, do I get to live?" Hope and desperation warring in his bloodshot eyes.
"If the chamber is empty by the time I am done asking questions, then when I fire it, you won't die."
He spilled everything he knew, which wasn't much. He told us about the hit on the senator and how someone had killed Solovyov's pet hitman Oleg.
Since my brother was the one who killed Oleg, and Gregor’s brother-in-law Mikhail the one who took out the replacement hitman after that, it was old news.
Still, fair was fair.
I removed another bullet, setting it beside the first one with a clink. Zaitsev flinched.
Three left.
We spent the next twenty minutes with Zaitsev telling me everything he knew about Solovyov's plans for taking over from Gregor, the foothold he already had in the States and any weaknesses he saw. His words tumbled over each other, sometimes devolving into incoherent Russian when his panic took over.
"So it's done?" he asked, shaking, staring at the last bullet now lined up on the table. Sweat dripped from his chin onto his trembling hands.
I closed the barrel and raised the gun to Zaitsev's face.
He stared at the end of the barrel, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying and failing to form words. The muzzle hovered inches from the bridge of his nose.
I pulled the trigger.
The hollow click echoed around the room.
Zaitsev collapsed on the table and wept, the acidic smell of his urine filling the space. A dark stain spread across his lap as his body surrendered to fear.
The fool had watched me unload the gun and still crumpled like a coward.
"It's finished," he said, his shoulders sagging as he sat back in his chair. Relief washed over his features, aging him a decade in seconds.
"Yes, congratulations, Zaitsev. You survived round two."
I opened the barrel again and studied the bullets laying in front of me for a moment. "Now it's time for round three."
"What else do you want to know?" he shouted, banging his fist on the table hard enough that several of the bullets tumbled over. They rolled across the metal surface like dice, fate deciding where they would land.
"Nothing." I shrugged. "Round three isn't about information, it's about retribution."
I picked up the first bullet and held it between two fingers, letting the overhead light glint off its brass casing. "This one's for using children to run drugs. That has been forbidden for years. It attracts too much attention."
I slid the first bullet into the barrel. The sound crisp and final.
"This one is for Gregor. You dishonored my cousin by conspiring against him and helping Solovyov get a foothold in his territory."
"No, I never—" He started pleading, his voice rising to a desperate pitch.
"This one." I held up the third bullet. "This is for Dima."
"He was my son. I had every right to?—"
"This one's for me. You wasted my time tonight. You provided no new information, and you were looking to double-cross me."
The fourth bullet slid into place. The cylinder was growing heavy with judgment.
I was going to close the gun, spin the barrel and let the fates decide.
Then I thought of her.
Viktoria's bruised cheek and the way he dragged her before me like cattle, intending to sell her.
Heat curled in my veins as I looked at the man who degraded his daughter so easily. My fingers tightened around the gun.
"This one is for trying to sell your daughter like a common whore." I slid bullet number five into the barrel, then reached into my jacket pocket for another. The metal cold against my fingers. "This one is for every time you struck her."
"I can discipline my daughter as I see fit. She is my property. I own the bitch?—"
Before he could finish the sentence, I fired the gun, placing a bullet neatly in the center of his forehead.
His eyes stayed open, wide with shock, then all at once the life faded from them and his body collapsed onto the cement floor. A crimson pool spread beneath his head.
“Do you want the bodies to be used as a warning or to disappear?" Vladan asked, his face impassive as he surveyed the corpse.
I stared down at the fat, ugly man who had gorged himself on the spoils of other people's labor.
He was all the worst parts of man.
Greed was one thing, but he was a glutton.
Greedy people were at least strategic and could see the big picture.
Gluttons were only concerned with the now.
"Get rid of them but spread the word about what happened. A war is coming. We need loyal men. Weakness will not be tolerated."
The other two men dragged Zaitsev away, his heels leaving dark smears across the concrete floor. Vladan stayed behind for a moment, his shoulders tight with unasked questions.
"A war with Solovyov or Gregor?" he asked when we were alone.
"Gregor and I still may come to a peaceful arrangement."
Vladan shot me a look. From anyone else it would have been disrespectful. The corners of his mouth tightened with doubt.
"So for now, Solovyov first. We will not let him divide us. In the meantime, I want eyes on Viktoria. At least two men, at all times. I don't know what other dealings her father had, and who might search for payment."
Vladan nodded, his expression clearing as he understood my intent.
I stood and cracked my neck before holstering my gun. The weight of it against my ribs familiar, comforting. "I'll trust you to handle this."
"Yes, boss."
Usually I would have stayed and helped my men.
Not tonight.
Thoughts of Viktoria still distracted me. The memory of her defiant eyes and wounded dignity lingered in my mind.
I resolved to check on her myself—to see if she had learned her first lesson in obedience, and to teach her what happened to those who defied an Ivanov.