Chapter 12
ANDREI
Early the next morning, my phone rings. It should wake me, but I’m already awake, staring up at my ceiling. I’ve barely slept. My mind is too full of Liesl, and everything that’s happened between us in the last two days.
I can’t stop seeing her on my sink, sprawled on my desk, on her knees. The sight of her pussy around my cock, her mouth stretched wide as she took me. The way she felt around my fingers, on my tongue.
She’s becoming an obsession, right when I need to be focused, and I can’t stop. She thinks I’m a monster, and she’s right. And I can’t stop wanting to force her to admit that she wants me anyway.
I don’t have time to play games, but this one is so intoxicating that I can’t stop myself from reaching for another hit. I won the last round, and now I want to go again. I want to hear her begging for her monster to make her come again.
The phone rings again, and I reach for it, snatching it off the table and hitting the call button viciously, angry at being distracted from my fantasies. Viktor's voice is tight on the other end. "We have something. You need to see this now."
“Fine. I’ll be there in five.”
I get up, ignoring the ache in my cock. I don’t have time to do anything about it right now, and it won’t help anyway. Jerking off isn’t a solution any longer. Not when I know how Liesl’s pussy feels, how good her mouth is. The only thing that satisfies my lust any longer is her.
When I get down to my office, Viktor is already sitting at the other side of my desk, his screen filled with intercepted communications.
I can see immediately that they’re encrypted messages from sources we've been monitoring since Baumann refused to pay the ransom, finally decoded.
He doesn't say anything, just turns the screen toward me and lets me read.
The first message is from Alexander Baumann to someone in the Volkov organization.
It has coordinates and shipment details, with weapon specifications.
Then, there’s one from someone involved with Volkov, detailing the payment that’s been sent.
There are more, along those same lines—proof that Liesl's father isn't just refusing to pay ransom.
He's actively arming my enemies. He’s brokering deals between them and contacts he has to ensure they have weaponry that could take me and my organization down.
“This is bad.” My jaw clenches. “He must have had these contacts already, deals he covers up with real estate and investments. Now he’s utilizing them to get in bed with the Volkovs.”
Viktor nods. "The men are asking what we do now. If we still try for ransom or if we—"
"No ransom." The decision is immediate. "He's declared war. So now we're at war."
"And the girl?"
The girl. Liesl.
"She stays," I say flatly. "She's leverage now. Insurance. He wants to arm Volkov? Fine. But he does it knowing I have his daughter, and what I could do to her if he pushes too far."
Viktor's expression doesn't change, but I see the calculation in his eyes. He's wondering if I mean it. If I would actually hurt her to make a point to her father.
I don't know the answer myself.
"There's something else," Viktor says carefully. "We found a leak. Someone feeding information to Baumann about our operations."
My hands curl into fists on the desk. "Who?"
"Timofey. One of the guards on the east perimeter."
"Where is he now?"
"Holding room in the basement. Waiting for you."
I stand, feeling the cold swell of rage in my gut. I’m furious at yet another betrayal, but a part of me is eager, too. Glad for somewhere to direct all the anger and tangled emotion surging through me constantly now. I can focus it here, and god help Timofey and whatever part he played in this.
"Get two men. Meet me down there in five minutes."
Viktor leaves without another word.
I stand in the office for another minute, sucking in slow breath after slow breath and letting it out again, trying to maintain some semblance of control.
Then I go downstairs to kill a traitor.
—
Timofey is tied to a chair in the center of the room when I arrive. His face is already bruised—Viktor's work, probably, or one of the other men who brought him in. He looks up when I enter, and I see the exact moment he understands he's not walking out of here alive.
"Pakhan." His voice shakes. "Please. I can explain—"
"Explain what?" I move closer, keeping my voice conversational.
Calm. "Explain how you've been feeding information to Alexander Baumann, or how you've been helping him coordinate attacks against us?
Explain how you betrayed every man in this organization for…
what? Money? Promises of something else? "
"He threatened my family—"
"Everyone threatens everyone's family, Timofey.
That's how this world works." I crouch down in front of him, meeting his eyes.
"You had choices. You could have come to me.
Told me about the threat. Let me protect you.
Instead you chose to betray us. To put every man here at risk. To help our enemies kill our people."
"I'm sorry—"
"I know you are." I stand and pull my gun from the holster at my back. "But sorry doesn't bring back the men who died because of information you provided. Sorry doesn't undo the damage you've done."
"Please—"
I put the barrel against his forehead. "This is mercy, Timofey. I could make this last hours. I could make you suffer. But I'm giving you a clean death, if you tell me what you’ve told them, and what they know because of you. Be grateful, and be honest."
He's crying now. Begging. Promising things he can't deliver. I turn the gun and smash it into the side of his cheek, feeling teeth loosen as I do. He cries out and I reach into his mouth with one hand, yanking one of the loose teeth out and throwing it onto the floor.
His scream echoes in the basement. He flops and struggles, nearly knocking the chair over, and I pull out another tooth. Then another.
Before much longer, he tells me everything. All the information he passed over and to who, what Volkovs organization knows, and the part he played in what happened with Yuri. For that, I pull out three more teeth, until he’s begging for death.
I take another, for good measure, and then I finally give him what he’s asking for… which is better than he deserves, as far as I’m concerned.
I pull the trigger.
The sound is deafening in the small room. Blood and brain matter spray across the concrete floor, and Timofey's body slumps in the chair, held upright only by the ropes binding him.
I holster my gun and turn to Viktor and the two men standing near him. "Clean this up. Then spread the word—anyone else working with Baumann or Volkov should come forward now. Confess, and I'll consider mercy. Stay silent, and when I find you, it will be much worse than this."
They nod and get to work, as I leave the basement with blood spatter on my shirt and the cold satisfaction that one more rat has been ferretted out.
But it doesn’t fix the damage that’s been done. It doesn’t bring Yuri back, or change the complications that have arisen between my captive and I.
It feels good, but it’s not enough. It won’t be enough until everyone who has threatened me, or tried to betray me, is dead.
Until this empire is mine, irrevocably, as it was my father’s before me.
—
Ten minutes late, I stand in my shower, watching pink-tinged water circle the drain.
The rage is still there, simmering under my skin.
Alexander Baumann thinks he can use his daughter as a pawn while simultaneously arming my enemies.
He thinks he can play this game and win, and get his daughter back.
He's wrong. My jaw clenches. Maybe I won’t give her back. Not ever. Maybe I’ll destroy Volkov and him, and keep Liesl. There’s no ransom now. This isn’t about giving her back. This is about winning.
I'm pulling on fresh clothes when I hear footsteps in the hallway outside my room. They’re light and soft, and they can only belong to one person.
Liesl.
My body reacts instantly, my cock swelling just at the sound of her approach. As if she’s Pavlov’d me like a fucking dog. I’m yearning for her before I even hear her hesitant knock, and then the door opens before I can decide whether to let her in or send her away.
She's wearing jeans and a soft-looking t-shirt, her hair pulled back, her face clean and soft. She looks young and vulnerable, nothing like the woman who was on her knees in my office last night.
"Andrei.” Her voice sounds resolute, as if whatever she’s about to say she’s practiced in her head several times. "We need to talk."
I button my shirt slowly, watching her. "About what?"
"About last night. About—" She takes a breath. "About us. This. Whatever this is between us."
I raise an eyebrow, refusing to take her bait. She can try to get out of this game, but I’m not finished with her. "And what is it between us, Liesl?"
"I don't know." She moves further into the room, and I can see her hands are shaking.
She shoves them into her pockets. "But I know it can't continue.
I know that every time we—every time I let you—" She stops, then starts again.
"I'm losing myself. I'm becoming someone I don't recognize.
Someone who wants things she shouldn't want. Who does things she knows are wrong."
I let a slow smirk curl the corner of my lip. "You think what happened yesterday was wrong?"
I know her answer already, but I want to make her say it again.
"Yes." The word is firm. "Yes, I think it was wrong. I think all of it has been wrong. And I think if I don't stop now, I won't be able to stop at all."
Pure lust burns through me at that, at her admission that she can’t resist me. That despite her morality, that compass she’s trying so desperately to cling to, I make her come undone.
Just like she does to me. But I can’t let her know that. I have to keep the upper hand, or we’re both lost.