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Many of the windows have been boarded up, and I’ve had bars placed on all of them for an extra level of protection.
Danil climbs out of the car and jogs over to the shutters, punching in the security code and scanning his fingerprints to unlock them.
Mikhail leans forward in his seat as we wait for the shutters to rise. “Do you think he’ll talk?”
“We’re about to find out.”
I drive the hummer into the center of the warehouse, wanting to keep it out of sight from anyone who might happen to pass by, and put it in park.
Danil’s already working on closing the shutters, and Mikhail climbs out of the backseat and hurries around to the trunk.
I climb out of the hummer, slamming the door behind me. “Tie him to the chair.”
The warehouse is damp and cold, with only a few flickering lights overhead to illuminate the space. But that’s how I like it.
It might look abandoned from the outside, but the place is stocked with weapons and underground cells that have proven very useful over the years.
I’d much rather keep my conscience clear and my hands clean, but these fuckers never want to cooperate. So, I have to get creative.
Danil drags two rusted folding chairs across the concrete floor, and Mikhail forces Ricci down into one of them.
I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles as my brothers secure him to the chair, the bag still tied firmly over his head.
Once they’re done, Danil looks at me, and I nod once.
Danil smirks as he unties the strings and lifts the bag off Ricci’s head.
He squints as his eyes adjust to the low light, his head smeared with blood. He looks to be about Emilio’s age, with graying hair and heavy wrinkles around his eyes. But from the breadth of his shoulders, he’s packing some muscle.
This should be fun.
“You have some information for me.” I pull up the other fold out chair to sit in front of Ricci, knee to knee.
His eyes are furiously searching around the space, which only makes me grin.
“There’s no way out. I made sure of it.”
I lean forward and grip the edge of the duct tape covering his mouth, ripping the tape off, taking a bunch of his graying facial hair with it.
Ricci cries out in pain.
“Trust me, that’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do if you don’t cooperate. Now, start talking.”
I reach into my ankle holster and pull out a six-inch blade.
His eyes widen as he fights against the restraints.
Mikhail and Danil stand on either side of him, their guns loaded and ready as they watch us silently.
“Do you where you are, Ricci?” I lean back in my chair, resting my blade on my thigh.
His eyes stay on the blade, but he remains silent.
“I asked you a question.”
“N-no.” Beads of sweat are starting to drip down his forehead.
“I purchased this warehouse nine years ago. I thought it would be the perfect place to torture the fucker who killed my parents.”
