Page 81 of Deadly Knight

I press my hand to the glass, wondering exactly where he is right now.

One Week Later

“Hello?”I answer the call.

“Your father is on your plane, drugged and tied up with more rope than you can imagine. I’ve done what you asked. Now leave my country, and I will contact you to fulfill our deal at some point in the future.”

Nico Corsetti hangs up.

In the week since meeting with the Corsetti brothers, there have been no updates. I never stopped working, though, meeting with a few of the gangs Lev was able to dig up. Figured at this point, Corsetti wouldn’t care, and if he did, oh well.

The passing days gave me a lot of time to plot how I’ll be dealing with Ivan since death doesn’t feel like enough. No matter how long I drag out his suffering, it’ll eventually be over. There will be a reprieve at the end he’ll cling to before letting go. It’ll be the light he waits for. Amercy.

It’s too humane. Not good enough for the pain he’s caused to Katya, to me, to Vanessa, and everyone else his evilness has ever touched.

He’ll definitely die…but only after I cause him even a fuckingfractionof what he did to Katya. Only when I’m tired of him breathing will his life cease to exist. He can stop being a stain on this planet and in the lives of those he’s damaged.

It won’t be quick. It won’t be merciful, and by then, he’ll be begging for it to end.

Until then: prison. Russian prisons are known for being some of the cruellest in the world, but the cells the Bratva has set aside for our needs are worse. A six-feet-by-six-feet stone box with no window for any indication of time passing. Without sunlight or even moonlight, one’s senses start getting fucked up. After endless days of solitary confinement, comprehension of time slips away. Food is a single, daily occurrence and is nothing beyond two slices of bread and a glass of water delivered through a small opening in the wall at a different time each day so prisoners can’t use mealtime as a clock. When they’re barely functioning on minimal nutrients and deprived of outdoors and communication, music gets blasted into the cells. The most annoying, cheery songs, so loud no one can sleep through them. If some lucky soul does manage to tune it out and doze off, then the song gets switched for an entirely new beat to start the process all over. Sleep deprivation adds to the strain, leading to a breakdown.

Most don’t even make it a month before they’re insane, begging for death.

For my father, I won’t allow him to go mad. The ones who get driven to insanity are the ones saved. For Ivan Volkov, there will be no escaping. His captivity will be slightly different to ensure he’s always on edge. Always aware of his fragile state, but never quite broken.

He should expect nothing less than utter cruelty and depravity from me. After all, I’ve become the soldier he always dreamed I would be. His acts against Katya did precisely what they were meant to: made me into a ruthless killer. A weapon he once sought to wield that’ll now be turned against him.

I drive to the airport, ready to end this once and for fucking all.

Me

I have him.

Vanessa

Good. Where was he hiding?

Me

Corsetti found him.

Vanessa

What’d you give for his help?

Me

Me. A job of his choosing at a time of his choosing.

Vanessa

Vague. Coming home?

Me

About to take off, but I’m heading to the prison. That’s where he’ll be spending the next little while.

Vanessa