Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Then she rolled over, the sheet slipping down her body, revealing the marks I'd left on her pale skin. My claim on her was undeniable; my blood ran hot thinking of all the ways I would mark her as mine again. What would she look like with my mark on her neck, claiming her for everyone to see?
"What do you think, Artem?" Kostya asked, pulling my mind back to the dank little room.
"What?"
"We are discussing the finer points of fashion for a situation like this. What do you think our guest of honor should have worn?" Kostya said while Pavel gave me a loaded look that I had no interest in interpreting.
"Black tie. Only the finest suit, one that has been perfectly tailored. It's really the only thing a man should wear when he meets his maker. Normally I would suggest reserving that for the funeral, but there is no need."
"What?" Kristoff said, barely able to lift his head or meet my eye through all the swelling. "But I didn't—I would never—"
Kostya cut off his lies with a punch to his kidneys.
I lowered myself down to Kristoff's level. He needed to hear me and see my face to really understand the gravity of the situation he found himself in.
"You know what you did, Kristoff. We know what you did. Now you will answer our questions."
"If I do, Solovyov will kill me," he whispered, his body trembling.
Pavel and Kostya laughed behind me.
"Kristoff." I shook my head like a disappointed parent looking at their child's report card. "You're not leaving this room alive. Your fate was sealed the moment you betrayed us."
"Then why would I tell you anything?"
It was hard to see beyond the swelling and blood, but I thought I spotted a glimmer of defiance in his eyes. It was almost enough to make me respect him a little.
Almost.
"Just because I'm going to kill you doesn't mean I have to do it quickly," I said with a smile. "Your life will end. That is nonnegotiable. But you get to decide how much pain you feel before we let you go. And because I'm in a generous mood, I'll let you decide how or if your family ever finds your body."
"You—" His voice trembled with fear, and I knew I was getting somewhere.
"We can do right by you and your years of service to the family. We'll have your body delivered to a funeral home, and your family told some bullshit about you dying an honorable death, and the expenses for your funeral and burial will be covered. Or maybe no one ever finds your body?"
"What does it matter if I am buried in a cemetery or a field?" Kristoff, to his credit, tried to stand. Pavel put his hand on his shoulder, but it wasn't necessary. He could barely hold up his own weight.
"It doesn’t, I suppose," I admitted. "But you forget, Kristoff. We've worked together for a very long time. I know what you value. Where your body rests is of no consequence to you, but your reputation is."
"What—"
"It's not just that no one will find your body. I'll make damn sure that your family thinks you're still alive. That you just ran away like the fucking coward you are. For a time."
Kristoff bared his broken and missing teeth at me, more blood dribbling down his chin. It wasn't as intimidating as he had hoped.
"Then, when the mood strikes, I'll send your wife, your mother, and your children pieces of your corpse. They'll know what kind of man abandoned them when they needed him most."
"You wouldn't—" he snarled.
I let out a low laugh.
"Not only would I do it, I have done it. There's nothing stopping me from doing it again. So the choice is yours. Do you want your family to be taken care of, to gather around the table on your birthday to tell stories of the great man they lost? Or do you want them destitute, on their own, cursing your name for abandoning them? Then, when they have finally forgotten you, receiving the reminders I’ll send."
"You're no better than Solovyov," he spat. "At least he has honor."
Pavel and Kostya laughed behind me.
"Honor? You think that small-dicked coward has honor? If you die a traitor's death owing him money, do you think he won't still collect? He will turn your son into a soldier that is no more important than cannon fodder. Your wife and daughters will fill his brothels, and I don't even want to think about what he would do to your mother."
"You lie!" he yelled as he lunged forward.
I took one step back and then landed an uppercut under his ribs. He doubled over and fell back into his chair. My knuckles throbbed and I cherished the ache. It focused me, pulled me to the here and now, letting thoughts of Viktoria slide to the back of my mind.