Page 13 of Twisted Proposal

The hollow click echoed around the room.

Zaitsev collapsed on the table and wept, the acidic smell of his urine filling the space. A dark stain spread across his lap as his body surrendered to fear.

The fool had watched me unload the gun and still crumpled like a coward.

"It's finished," he said, his shoulders sagging as he sat back in his chair. Relief washed over his features, aging him a decade in seconds.

"Yes, congratulations, Zaitsev. You survived round two."

I opened the barrel again and studied the bullets laying in front of me for a moment. "Now it's time for round three."

"What else do you want to know?" he shouted, banging his fist on the table hard enough that several of the bullets tumbled over. They rolled across the metal surface like dice, fate deciding where they would land.

"Nothing." I shrugged. "Round three isn't about information, it's about retribution."

I picked up the first bullet and held it between two fingers, letting the overhead light glint off its brass casing. "This one's for using children to run drugs. That has been forbidden for years. It attracts too much attention."

I slid the first bullet into the barrel. The sound crisp and final.

"This one is for Gregor. You dishonored my cousin by conspiring against him and helping Solovyov get a foothold in his territory."

"No, I never—" He started pleading, his voice rising to a desperate pitch.

"This one." I held up the third bullet. "This is for Dima."

"He was my son. I had every right to?—"

"This one's for me. You wasted my time tonight. You provided no new information, and you were looking to double-cross me."

The fourth bullet slid into place. The cylinder was growing heavy with judgment.

I was going to close the gun, spin the barrel and let the fates decide.

Then I thought of her.

Viktoria's bruised cheek and the way he dragged her before me like cattle, intending to sell her.

Heat curled in my veins as I looked at the man who degraded his daughter so easily. My fingers tightened around the gun.

"This one is for trying to sell your daughter like a common whore." I slid bullet number five into the barrel, then reached into my jacket pocket for another. The metal cold against my fingers. "This one is for every time you struck her."

"I can discipline my daughter as I see fit. She is my property. I own the bitch?—"

Before he could finish the sentence, I fired the gun, placing a bullet neatly in the center of his forehead.

His eyes stayed open, wide with shock, then all at once the life faded from them and his body collapsed onto the cement floor. A crimson pool spread beneath his head.

“Do you want the bodies to be used as a warning or to disappear?" Vladan asked, his face impassive as he surveyed the corpse.

I stared down at the fat, ugly man who had gorged himself on the spoils of other people's labor.

He was all the worst parts of man.

Greed was one thing, but he was a glutton.

Greedy people were at least strategic and could see the big picture.

Gluttons were only concerned with the now.