Page 59 of Filthy Little Regrets (Princes of NYC #2)

thirty-seven

MACE

Agony bangs around my head as I wake up.

I groan, a sharp pain radiating from my skull, so intense I can’t open my eyes.

Shit, that hurts. I lift my hand to check the injury, but I’m stopped by thick, rough ropes banded around my body.

It’s then I realize I’m not in my comfy bed; I’m lying on an unforgiving, cold surface.

Concrete.

What the fuck ?

I open my eyes, blinking away grogginess and squinting at the light shining right in my face. Vision clearing, I glance around, straining against the restraints. Cinderblock walls, a sump pump, laundry machines...this is someone’s basement. How?

Shaking my head, I roll to a seated position, ropes digging into my skin. I remember driving home to meet up with Cassia...

Moving my wrists back and forth, I rub them raw in my attempt to get free. Whoever tied these ropes knew what they were doing .

Someone experienced in kidnapping.

Blips of the hours I’ve lost start to appear as I gain my bearings.

Traffic. The call from Mom. My pulse spikes.

Adalie! The tracking analysis showed Darius at a place owned by.

..shit. Grigory Morozov. A brigadier in the motherfucking bratva, but not just any bratva.

The Guild of Brothers, the biggest and most powerful bratva, run by Zakhariy Morozov, a mean son of a bitch.

Anger erupts inside of me. What the fuck was Darius thinking, working with the fucking bratva? If Vito finds out...well, it actually doesn’t fucking matter, because as soon as I see my piece of shit father, I’m killing him myself.

My feet are tied, too, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay seated.

Maybe I can walk, get to the egress window, call for backup.

Find a way to get out of this without starting a war.

I tuck my knees in, use all of my strength to stand, but my head throbs in protest so intensely that my knees give out.

I drop to the concrete with a solid thud and a grunt.

The subfloor overhead groans and creaks as multiple people walk across it.

Great. Now they know I’m awake .

The door to the basement bangs open. I can’t see much of anything in that direction, thanks to the fucking spotlight shining in my face. All I can make out is what looks like six figures descending the stairs.

I don’t beg. I don’t demand to know what’s going on. I simply wait. They would have killed me by now if they didn’t need me. Something has them holding out. One breaks away from the group, and before his face is even illuminated by the light, I recognize him.

“Hello, Son.”

Clenching my jaw to keep from reacting, I breathe in and wait, letting the rage roil in my gut. I hate that I was right. This motherfucker brought Adalie to the bratva.

“You’re injured.” He tips his head, smirking. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?”

I look at the vague figures beyond the light. If I find a way out of these restraints, they’re all fucking dead.

Darius comes closer, but he’s still too far away. Fuck him for being cautious. “Did you really think you could stop this?”

Glaring at him, I press my lips together and grind my teeth.

“Adalie is marrying Grigory.” He searches my face. “And once she tells us where Melody is staying, she’s marrying his cousin.”

Over my dead fucking body. He wants to use my sisters as fucking bargaining chips, like they’re not human at all.

“Did you ever love any of us?”

His eyebrows press together. “What does love have to do with any of this?”

“You’re our fucking father!” The scream shreds my throat, years of pent-up rage spilling out in ragged consonants and jagged vowels. “How could you do this to her? To me? We’re not your fucking toys.”

Running his hand over his face, he shakes his head.

“That’s what you never understood. Having you was a duty.

I did it for the Astor name, and now you all need to pay the same fucking price I paid!

” he shouts, jabbing his finger at me, anger contorting his features.

“It’s what Astors do, Maccon! Why can’t you fucking understand that? ”

Every muscle vibrates with tension. I hate him, but I have to try to reason with him for my sister’s sake. “Adalie deserves a choice. Forget me, what about her? Don’t do this to her. ”

He takes a few more steps and squats in front of me, just a foot away. “I expected better from you, but you’re fucking soft. I should have kept your mother away from you. She warped your mind. You’re such a disappointment, Mace.”

The words don’t even hurt. They only confirm what I know to be true.

He has no heart. Darius Astor is the monster.

Not me. Rage burns through my veins. I’m going to fucking kill him.

The drop into that familiar dark place is quick and hard, but I don’t close myself off to the emotions this time; I let them feed my frustration.

“Did you know your great-great-grandma was half Russian? Our family could be bratva royalty, Maccon. Think about the power.”

I tip my head, eyes narrowing on his pulse point. It’s soft. Weak. “Power is all you want, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” he snaps, looking at me like I’m crazy. “That’s all we have in this life.”

He’s wrong. He’s always been wrong. His reign of terror ends today. My gaze moves to the goons still standing back, watching the show. They’re too far away to intervene in time to save him. My gaze drifts back to the man before me. His graying hair. His soulless eyes. The muscles he’s let soften.

Kill him .

“Adalie will marry Grigory, and Melody, the little slut, will go to the highest bid?—”

His words cut off when I collide into him.

I knock him over and headbutt him. Stars dance across my vision, but they fade quickly.

His skull bounces off the concrete. A chorus of laughter and Russian curses follow.

I don’t wait to see if Darius recovers. Pinning him with my weight, I find the vulnerable part of his throat and sink my teeth into his skin like a fucking animal, breaking skin.

Hot, coppery blood floods into my mouth.

“Arrgh!”

Not enough.

I clamp my jaw tight and shake, seething, panting.

Darius beats at my body, but I simply adjust my bite and bear down, tearing his neck open, hopefully destroying his jugular vein.

The fucker can bleed out. When his hits weaken and there’s nothing left for me to rip open, I sit up and spit a glob of his blood at his face. “FUCK YOU!”

“Look at that, boys, we got a fighter.”

I whip my head toward the voice, thick with a heavy accent.

Darius groans and starts to rouse, so I bash my head into his again, grinding my teeth against the pain erupting inside my head. He falls limp. Stupid weak-ass motherfucker.

Chuckling, Grigory walks around the spotlight, keeping a good three feet between me and him. “I’ll admit, I did not expect this.”

The warm blood that’s run down my chin and throat starts to dry, caking against my skin. I can only imagine how rabid I look. The wolf they all talk about, the vicious boy all grown up. I spit a glob of blood, and it lands on the floor with a splat.

“Who forgot the gag?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Ivan,” one of his men replies.

Grigory pulls out a gun, turns, and fires it at one of the guys. The shot rings out, bouncing off the walls of the basement, and the guy collapses and tumbles down the stairs. His men stiffen, but to them, Ivan, no matter how close of a friend, deserved to die because he fucked up.

“Did you kill him?” Grigory kicks Darius’s shoe .

A breath rattles out of the bastard. He better enjoy that air, because soon enough, he won’t have any more.

“See, now you and me have a fuckin’ problem, Mace.” Grigory scratches his forehead, the gun pointing toward the ceiling. “Your sister is being difficult. You killed your father. My cousin is waiting for his bride.”

“He can keep waiting.” I work my wrists, straining against the restraints. “Adalie!” I shout.

Her muffled scream tears through the house. They gagged her?

Grigory tsks and points the gun at me. “Did I tell you to speak to my wife?”

“She’s not your wife,” I tell him, grunting as blood trickles down my hands, but I keep working against the rough ropes.

Adalie shouts from somewhere above me again, but I can’t make out her words, only the desperation in her tone.

“See? She agrees. Your father agreed to this too.” He sighs and glances at Darius, whose blood is pooling around him. “But you put me in a difficult place. The deal we made with Rex Technologies isn’t signed.” He lowers the gun. “You will sign for him.”

“And if I say no?”

Grigory’s answering grin has dread racing down my spine. “Your sister will pay.”