Page 42 of Konstantin (Marinov Bratva #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

KONSTANTIN

The next day, I can’t stop thinking about how she wrapped her arms around me, like she was silently telling me she accepts who I am. Like she won’t walk away once the DeLuca business is finished.

I want to believe I don’t have to force her to stay, that she’ll want to, but I don’t know if we’re there yet.

When I step out of my car, the scent of earth and shit fills my lungs as I approach the pig farm, miles away from the house. The three men are already waiting, their bodies trembling, their knees in the dirt, my brothers and our men all waiting for me.

The hint of blood and metal clings to the air as I circle them, tied to the fence, arms bound tightly behind them, their faces pale in fear.

I grip the knife in my hand, its steel catching the faint light. The chainsaw rests on the ground beside them, gleaming with a deadly promise .

One of them starts to speak, his body shaking.

“I-I don’t know the n-name of the cop,” he stammers, eyes wide with terror. “Th-the boss doesn’t t-tell us any of that.”

I tsk under my breath, taking a step forward. “It’s in your best interest not to lie to me. You know what happens when I lose patience, right, my friend?”

He squirms, glancing at the chainsaw with obvious fear.

The second man starts to plead. “P-p-please, please, we swear we don’t know anything. We’re j-just street-level guys. DeLuca only t-tells us what we n-need to know.” His words crack, desperation dripping from each syllable.

I don’t believe them. Not for a second.

“And that hit on me at the hotel.” I flip the knife in my hands, continuing to walk around them. “Was that the cop’s idea or the boss’s?”

The third man shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking between me and his two companions.

“Don’t fucking look at them.” I rush toward him, the tip of the knife inching near his eye. “You look at me .”

He shudders with a nod.

“What the fuck did you want to say? And it better be the truth.”

“Y-yeah, o-o-okay.”

“Speak!”

“The hit, that was DeLuca. But…”

“But what? Nu blyat govori!” Fucking talk!

Sweat coats his forehead, face a mixture of terror and uncertainty. “The-the hit wasn’t meant for you.”

I stop, my body stiffening. “What do you mean?”

When he doesn’t say anything, I press my shoe into his hand. The man begs me to stop, but I don’t. I press harder until I swear a bone cracks.

“All I heard…”

I step off his hand, and he pants heavily.

“All I heard was that they were after some woman. The one who killed the two lieutenants.”

“I already knew they were after her. That’s not a surprise.”

I grab the chainsaw from the ground and drop the knife, ready to end them all. The sound of the saw revving up fills the space between us, the noise ringing in the silence of the night.

“Wait!” The man cracks in terror. “You don’t understand! They wanted her dead before she killed them.”

My body locks in place. “What?”

“Please, I’m telling you what I heard. DeLuca put the hit on her. He wanted her gone.”

Every muscle in my body tightens. “Do you know why?”

I back away, staring at him for long seconds. The silence stretches between us as I wait for him to give me answers I need.

His face pales as he stares at the saw. “I-I don’t know that…but if you let me go, I can find out.”

I shake my head, the edges of my mouth curling into a smile that’s anything but comforting. “No need. I’m more than capable. But thank you for the offer. You are far too kind. Now, with that…”

The chainsaw roars to life once again.

“Your usefulness has come to an end.”

His eyes widen in realization, but it’s too late. Before he can say another word, I bring the saw down with precision, the blade cutting through his neck. His scream is short, and his head hits the ground with a soft thud.

The other two men wail vainly, their bodies jerking in their restraints as they beg for their lives, imploring me to spare them.

But I won’t. Everyone who works for DeLuca will die.

I bring the chainsaw to the second man, slicing through his neck with brutal force. The roar of the saw nearly drowns out the screams of the remaining man, but with a single pull of the lever, his head is severed from his body.

Crimson splatters across the ground, painting the dirt beneath us a deep red.

They knew what they were getting into when they crossed me.

I step back, wiping the blood from my forehead as I shut off the saw, the silence hanging heavy in the air.

Aleksei steps forward, watching me carefully. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s thinking about what just happened. Thinking about her .

“Why would they want her dead? What does she have to do with the DeLucas?” The undercurrent of his tone is unmistakable.

Tension builds in my body, my muscles growing stiff, my jaw clenched, and for a moment, I don’t speak.

“I don’t know yet.” I cut the distance between us, staring right at him. “But I will find out. And when I do, I’ll deal with it. You stay out of it. Ponyatno?” Understand?

His mouth jerks. “Da, ponyatno. But you know what must happen if she somehow betrayed us, right?”

My fist tightens around the collar of his shirt, my teeth grinding. “If you even think about touching my wife, I’ll kill you just like I killed them.”

Aleksei laughs, and it’s cold. Sinister.

“You’ve lost it, brother.” His voice is laced with mocking amusement. “Maybe losing her is exactly what you need to become who you were before.”

His words hit a raw nerve deep inside me, snapping away my control. My fist crashes into his face, the impact sending him stumbling backward. The pain in my hand is nothing compared to the rage boiling inside me.

Aleksei recovers quickly and lunges at me, throwing his own punch and knocking me to the ground. Our fists fly, bodies slamming into the dirt, each of us trying to overpower the other .

As I land a punch to his gut, Kirill and Anton step in, pulling us apart before things escalate.

“Okay, you two had your fun. Now stop this shit.” Kirill drags me back.

My chest heaves as I stare down at Aleksei, lying on the ground with a bloody grin. I can still feel the rage pulsing through me. Because I meant it.

I’d kill my own brother if he ever dared to hurt the woman I care about.

Turning around, I don’t look at any of them as I walk away. There’s nothing left to say.

And as I make my way back to the car, needing to see my wife, I know I will have to work even harder to protect her from everyone around us.

I won’t let anyone touch Tessa. She’s mine. And I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

For the rest of my life.

EMILIA

I wait for Konstantin to leave, the heavy door closing behind him as his footfalls fade down the hallway.

The house settles into the familiar quiet I’ve come to recognize. His men are scattered, doing their jobs, leaving me with a rare moment of solitude. But today, it feels like there are fewer of them than usual. Probably busy helping my husband with his…extracurricular activities.

Glancing around, I find one of his men by the foyer, his back to me as I flip through channels on the TV. Maybe this is my chance to go snooping to see if I can find just one more thing for Riley to go through.

I texted with her earlier, and she’s at a dead end for now. I hate knowing there’s nothing I can do from here.

Getting to my feet, I pretend I’m on my cell, staring at the screen as I start down the hall, feeling his man watch me as I move around.

I step into the guest bedroom first, one of many in the house, and continue moving through each room quietly, pretending to familiarize myself with the space. But there’s nothing useful inside—no computers, no devices I can access.

Next, I slip into his study, the one room that feels more like him. Shelves line the walls, old leather-bound books stacked high, the desk perfectly organized, everything in its place.

A single lamp casts a soft light across the polished wood. I pace around, my fingers trailing along the edges of his things, but nothing stands out. No laptop. No sign of anything that could help me. Even the drawers are empty. Damn it.

I stand there for a moment, knowing there are cameras everywhere, watching every move I make, even if I can’t see them. So I have to be careful.

Walking out of the study, I enter a game room next.

Arcade games line one side, and the centerpiece of the room is a large pool table.

I strut around the table, my fingers brushing the edges, the polished wood cool beneath my touch.

The sharp click of the pool balls echoes in the room as I pick one up, idly rolling it between my fingers.

But then it slips from my hands and skitters across the floor. I lean down quickly to retrieve it when something under the rug catches my attention. My foot grazes it first: a slight bump beneath the fabric.

What the hell is that? Access to some secret dungeon where he keeps souvenirs from his victims?

Crouching down, I lift the corner of the rug, the fabric heavy in my hands. Pulling it back inch by inch, I flip it over until I find…a handle, a metal latch fastened to the floorboards like a hidden storage co mpartment.

My fingers tremble slightly as I grip it, but it doesn’t give right away, refusing to open. But with a quiet grunt, I pull harder and it finally shifts, the floorboards groaning in protest as a large section slowly rises.

A wave of excitement floods me as my eyes land on the yellow envelopes stacked inside. Dozens of them. This is it. The breakthrough I’ve been waiting for. Something that could maybe help Nate.

But suddenly, the sound of footsteps grows louder.

His footsteps.

Fuck!

Panic jolts through me as I slowly shut the compartment, the low thud echoing louder.

The door handle begins to turn.

Oh God!

I scramble to fix the rug, my fingers shaking as I try to smooth it out. Every second stretches into an eternity, the rush of adrenaline making my head spin.