Page 8 of Owned Bratva Bride

“Oh, he might be coming with us?”

A chuckle left my lips.

“The best things happen by chance,” was my simple response.

As we sped along the colorful streets, I thought back to when Navarro engraved his name in the Bratva’s minor enemies’ list.

“…after I remove every one of your finger and toenails, you’ll remember more than the bullshit you’re spitting right now.”

I walk in on Leonid yelling angrily at the guy I’d asked him to torture. And I was bored already.

“Leonid!”

He turned around to face me.

“Khozyain,” he greeted, walking over to me.

“What have you got?”

“He’s still being stubborn. Nothing more than where they sneaked the extra merchandise in.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” I stated, moving ahead of him to the said guy.

The bewildered look on his face made it clear to me that he didn’t get my point.

Not taking my hands out of my pockets as I circled the guy tied to a metal chair, I explained, “He’s barely bloodied. What have you been doing? Canoodling? I could hear your angry shouts from the entrance of the building, but there’s nothing to show for it, is there? That’s what happens when you let anger precede thinking.”

Facing him, I went on.

“If your anger is untamed, you’re unbalanced. We asked you to bring him to this particular warehouse because it’s far enough from civilization. We gave you enough freedom so you don’t have to worry about his noise drawing attention. And now, you’re wasting it, shouting like a madman instead of actually getting answers.”

“Sorry, Khozyain.”

Being one of my men who knew all about using a gun but nothing about torturing without it, I wasn’t exactly expecting his first try to be perfect. Which explained my showing up.

But, more tutoring would come later; time was of the essence in knowing whoever the bastard behind this guy was. It wasn’t the first time someone had tampered with our shipment in recent weeks.

“What’s your name?” I asked the guy whose eyes were on the floor.

“Maximilian,” Leonid answered.

I clenched my teeth.

“One more unsolicited answer from you, Leonid, you’ll get a first-hand experience of my torture tutorial,” I warned.

“Look up,” I instructed Maximilian.

He did so right away.

“I can’t guarantee your safety, but I can make you not leave here in a body bag if you answer my question satisfactorily. Who do you work for?”

The quick flick of his eyes told me his answer before he said, “I don’t know. We just get instructions and carry them out. Our cash comes anonymously.”

“Right.”

Rolling my shirt sleeves up, I walked leisurely to the pliers on the long table and picked the one I needed.

“Leonid, hold his mouth open.”