Mikhail
“Pakhan,” Rurik speaks calmly. “Maybe he has a use. Alive.”
I ignore him at first. My chest heaves with rage. I feel the anger and adrenaline mixing into a lethal cocktail. I want to kill Bianchi because I don’t have Zakhar in my grip. I want to make him suffer for daring to mention Desmier. I take a step toward Bianchi, my hand flipping the pliers to the pointed tip.
“Pakhan,” Rurik repeats, this time more forcefully.
I glare at Rurik as if he’s next. “Chto?” I demand.
“He says he’s a messenger,” Rurik replies. “Then make him send a message.”
Anton motions toward two workers, and two men in coveralls rush over, scoop Bianchi and the chair upright, and then hurry away again.
“He’s no good to us dead.” Rurik’s voice is soothing and steady. “But alive, there are things he can tell.”
The thought halts me, and I see Maria in my mind. Her body bent over my desk, moaning loudly as I push into her. Begging me to make her come, screaming for me to do it now. I shake the image out of my head quickly, before I harden.
I wonder what Zakhar would do if I sent him a video of me ruining his little girl.
“It’s your lucky day.” I glare at Bianchi coldly. “Tell Zakhar that for everything he does against the Bratva, his precious little girl will suffer more.”
“He knows you’re using her for bait,” Bianchi groans. “I told you. He just wants his daughter back. Once he has her, he’ll disappear again. Like he did for all these years.”
I lean down, getting into his face. “Is that what you really believe? After everything he’s told you?”
Bianchi shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what I believe, does it?”
I stare at him, considering my options before I stand up straight to back away from the smell clinging to his piss-soaked trousers. “Go back to Zakhar. Tell him that his daughter is alive, but every action he takes against me, I will repay on her.”
“I can’t tell him that!” Bianchi stares at me like I’ve gone insane. “He’ll shoot me.”
“And you think what I offer is any better?” I laugh, and Anton joins in with a loud chuckle. “Last I checked, you still have seven nails left on your hand.”
Bianchi sighs.
“Tell him that I have his precious little girl tied in my bed. That I make her beg me for it every night.” I hold the pliers up in the air, and a drop of his blood splatters on the floor in a circle. “Tell him that she’s my good little whore.”
Bianchi swallows hard and nods. “Fine.”
I pat Bianchi on the shoulder and then motion toward Anton. “Get him out of here.”
Anton nods and waves the workers over to help him.
Rurik and I watch in silence as they leave, and as soon as the door shuts, he says. “I don’t think Bianchi will tell Zakhar any of that.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.” I pause. “I can’t give her back. Zakhar has told the Lanzzare too much already.”
“Do you intend to marry her?” Rurik looks at me with concern. “You don’t have to. Buy her a property and visit her when you’re bored with your future wife. Somewhere her father will never find her.”
I frown but don’t look at him. “That’s not something you would do,” I reply in a low voice.
“Because I love your sister.” He laughs, and his eyes light up. That only happens when he talks about Larissa. “But you don’t love Maria.”
My frown deepens, and I storm out of the warehouse, slamming the door shut behind me. My Mercedes roars to life and spits gravel out from under the tires as I put as much distance as possible between his statement and myself.