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“Please.”
“I no longer care if you live or die, so it’s up to you how you want to leave this world. You can either give me the information I know you have or you can stay here to rot and starve.”
“I-I…” Blood spurts from his mouth as he fights against his restraints.
I get in his face. “We know you sent that email.”
He reeks of blood and piss. It’s fucking pathetic. He’s been in this cell for three days and is yet to hand over any information, so my patience has officially run out.
“So, tell me what you know, and I can protect you. Because trust me, Ricci, you want to be on my side. These fuckers think they can mess with me, but they have no idea who they’re up against.”
He shakes his head, but remains silent.
“Very well. Goodbye.” I stand up and get out of his cell, pulling the door behind me.
Before it slams shut, he screams, “Okay.”
I smile to myself, but compose myself before going back in.
“What was that?”
Ricci’s throat bobs as he looks up at me, his left eye already completely swollen shut from the blow I gave him an hour ago.
“I’ll tell you.” He winces with every word.
“Let’s see if this information is worth your life.”
“Ivanov. He’s closer to this than you realize.”
“What the hell does that mean? My family has nothing to do with the Ivanov bratva.”
Ricci’s eyes flash with something like amusement, and my blood boils over.
I take out my gun and point it at his crotch. “Speak. Now!”
“There’s much you don’t know. So much your father failed to tell you.”
My chest heaves with every breath, my body a bundle of rage and adrenaline as I try to decipher what the fuck he’s talking about.
“I don’t appreciate the fucking riddles. You either tell me what you know or I blow your fucking cock out and leave you here to bleed to death!”
“Your father…” Ricci’s voice barely above a whisper now. “Wasn’t as faithful as you think.”
“What do you mean?”
Ricci looks up at me, and his expression is no longer one of fear, but one of pleasure.
“Let’s just say that Alexei Koslov senior didn’t keep it in his pants.” Ricci chuckles.
My father cheated on my mother?
I barely register the fact that I’m aiming at his face and pulling the trigger. Not until his head rolls on his shoulders with a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead.
“How dare you speak of my father?” I put another bullet in his chest. “Fuck you.”
The fucker asked for it.
I don’t make the rules. If he wanted to speak ill of my dead father, then I’m going to make sure his body is unrecognizable by the time I’m done with it.
