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)
"No," Zaitsev screamed. He tried to get up, but my men held him in place, their fingers digging into his shoulders. "You'll pay for that."
Flecks of white gathered at the corners of his lips as he screamed, veins bulging at his temples. Perhaps putting him down tonight would be the more humane thing to do.
Vladan opened the door behind me and two other men in suits stepped in, picking Junior up by his feet and dragging his body out of the room, leaving a thick, wet red trail across the concrete floor in their wake.
Zaitsev continued to scream threats until Vladan poured him another shot and he realized our game wasn't over. His face went from rage to horror in an instant.
Now it was time for me to get the information I needed.
"Round two." I smiled as the blood drained from his face and his eyes fixed on the revolver in my hand.
Five bullets remained.
CHAPTER 5
ARTEM
"Same rules as before, but this time, you will be forthcoming. For every complete answer, I will take a bullet out of the chamber. We start with five."
I opened the gun again and Zaitsev took another shot, though he was shaking so badly he ended up wearing most of it. The clear liquid splashed down his chin and stained his already filthy shirt.
"Tell me what really happened to Dima."
He told me everything.
How Dima wasn't okay running drugs through elementary-aged children, and he was going to ruin everything. He babbled on about how Dima was a disappointment and a traitor to his name, so he had his other son kill him and take his place as heir.
I had already known most of what happened.
Dima actually had a deal on the table for his family to come under the Ivanov umbrella, but Gregor would draw the line at children. So would I.
We had planned on getting rid of Zaitsev and elevating Dima to run his family, but we hadn't moved fast enough. That was one of my deepest regrets. Men like Dima were hard to find. He was fiercely loyal, but not a drone.
Dima had not been a yes-man. He lived by his own ethics and would not bend them. Even if his moral compass didn't line up with the letter of the law, he was a good man.
I removed one bullet from the barrel. The metal warm between my fingers as I placed it on the table with deliberate precision.
"Tell me what Solovyov promised you," I said.
"If the chamber is empty, do I get to live?" Hope and desperation warring in his bloodshot eyes.
"If the chamber is empty by the time I am done asking questions, then when I fire it, you won't die."
He spilled everything he knew, which wasn't much. He told us about the hit on the senator and how someone had killed Solovyov's pet hitman Oleg.
Since my brother was the one who killed Oleg, and Gregor’s brother-in-law Mikhail the one who took out the replacement hitman after that, it was old news.
Still, fair was fair.
I removed another bullet, setting it beside the first one with a clink. Zaitsev flinched.
Three left.
We spent the next twenty minutes with Zaitsev telling me everything he knew about Solovyov's plans for taking over from Gregor, the foothold he already had in the States and any weaknesses he saw. His words tumbled over each other, sometimes devolving into incoherent Russian when his panic took over.
"So it's done?" he asked, shaking, staring at the last bullet now lined up on the table. Sweat dripped from his chin onto his trembling hands.
I closed the barrel and raised the gun to Zaitsev's face.
He stared at the end of the barrel, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying and failing to form words. The muzzle hovered inches from the bridge of his nose.
I pulled the trigger.
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."