Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAKSIM
Almost two hours later, I am sitting behind the dark oak desk in my study reviewing incoming shipment manifests when the double doors sweep open. Dmitri steps inside, his expression rigid, his jaw set in a tight line that tells me everything I need to know before he even opens his mouth.
"Maksim," he says, his voice low and sharp. "We have a leak."
My eyes snap up to meet his, a cold, lethal calm instantly washing over me. "Show me."
Within minutes, we are out of the house and on the road, a two-car convoy cutting through the city streets. The trace leads us directly to a high-tier financial district—specifically to a discreet, luxury warehouse belonging to a Caruso-linked broker.
His name is Finn.
It doesn't take long to break through his pathetic excuses once my men tear through his encrypted drives.
Finn hasn't just been skimming; he's been feeding Viktor our old access routes and internal security protocols in exchange for a promised executive position once Viktor attempts his move against me.
Before the bastard can even reach for his burner phone, my men drag him out of his plush leather chair and toss him into the damp, concrete basement beneath his own office building.
"Please! Please! I don’t know anything!" Finn screeches, his face pale, sweat running down his neck as two of my guards haul him toward a steel support pillar.
"Tie him down," I order coldly, stepping into the dim light of the room.
"Pakhan, wait! Please!" Finn’s voice screeches into a desperate, panicked wail as heavy zip-ties and chains bind his wrists and ankles tightly around the iron beam.
I turn a completely blind eye and deaf ear to his pathetic begging. I slow-roll the cuffs of my crisp white shirt up to my elbows, the rhythmic rustle of the fabric the only sound cutting through his frantic pleas.
"I didn't pass anything to Viktor! I swear on my life, Pakhan!" Finn sobs, his chest heaving as the chains rattle against the iron beam.
I pull a wooden chair over, dragging it across the concrete floor with a harsh, grating screech before taking a seat right in front of him. I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees, staring into his wide, terrified eyes with a cold, unblinking detachment.
"Lying to me is a waste of the very little breath you have left, Finn," I say softly. "My men traced the exact encryption key used to leak the routes straight back to your terminal twenty minutes ago."
"It was a mistake! Someone forged my credentials!" he wails, shaking his head frantically. "You have to believe me!"
"I don't have to do anything," I rumble.
I signal to Dmitri, who steps forward and hands me a heavy, stainless-steel pair of pliers from the leather kit on the table.
Finn’s eyes go wide as saucers, the blood completely draining from his face. "No, no, no! Please! I have a family! Please!"
I don't break eye contact. In one swift, brutal motion, I grab his left hand, pinning his index finger flat against the metal armrest of the pillar. Before he can pull away, I clamp the jaws of the pliers down around his fingernail and yank upward with cold, calculated precision.
A blood-curdling scream tears from Finn's throat, echoing violently against the damp concrete walls. Blood wells up immediately, dripping onto his pants, but I don't give him a second to recover.
"Let's try again," I say, my voice terrifyingly calm over his agony. "How long have you been feeding Viktor our routes?"
"I... I... fuck!" he howls, gasping for air as tears and sweat streak down his face. "It was only three months! Three months, I swear!"
"Wrong answer," I murmur.
I reach down, grabbing his middle finger. I twist the metal grip, crushing the bone underneath until a sickening snap echoes through the room. Finn chokes on his own scream, his body going rigid, thrashing wildly against the chains as the sheer torture tears through his senses.
"Every lie costs you a piece of yourself, Finn," I whisper, leaning in close so he can smell the smoke and gunpowder still clinging to my collar. "Now tell me the truth before I start on your toes."
Finn is gasping, his body trembling so violently the chains rattle against the metal beam. "Two years!" he sobs out, blood dripping from his shattered fingers onto the cold floor. "It’s been two years! Viktor promised me full immunity! Please, Pakhan, no more!"
I don't offer him an ounce of pity. Two years of leaking route data means he is directly responsible for every ambush, every shipment lost, and every guard I’ve had to bury.
I extend my right hand, palm open. Dmitri instantly places a sleek, black-handled combat knife into my grip. I turn the blade in my hand, the polished steel catching the dim light of the basement bulb. I step forward, raising the knife.
"Start speaking, Finn. Or I break every bone in your body before I let you bleed out," I say softly, the metal dragging along the floor with a terrifying screech.
Broken by the silent monster standing over him, Finn completely collapses.
"Alright! Alright! Fuck, I'll tell you!" he howls, tears streaming down his face. "Viktor isn't just trying to cut your supply lines, Maksim! He knows he can't beat you in a direct war!"
"Then what is his play?" I ask, my voice dropping an octave, deadly and still.
"He wants to break your image!" Finn gasps out, clutching his shattered fingers.
"He wants to hit your household—to prove to the Bratva elders that you can't even protect the woman beside you!
If he can show them that the Pakhan is soft, that his estate is weak, the elders will question your strength and strip your territory!
That's the plan! To make you look powerless! "
Silence descends over the damp basement, thick and suffocating. A challenge to my authority through the one thing they think is my vulnerability: Camilla.
My expression locks into a slate of total, unreadable stone—the pure, unadulterated mask of a Bratva executioner.
I step up to Finn. Without a word, without a second of hesitation or a flicker of emotion in my eyes, I reach out, grab his jaw with one hand, and twist his head violently to the side.
A sharp, loud SNAP echoes off the concrete walls.
Finn’s body goes completely limp, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as the life drains out of him instantly. I let go, letting his corpse slump uselessly against the iron pillar.
I wipe my hands on a cloth Dmitri hands me, never taking my eyes off the door.
"Dmitri," I say, my voice icy enough to freeze the air in the room. "I want the estate on total lockdown. If these bastards want to take anything from me, they must go through me first.”