Page 103 of Ruthless Mafia King


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Luciano and two of his men lead Roman, Sergey, Yakov, and me to the restaurant’s basement.

My instructions for Roman are clear. He’s not to get involved unless Yakov’s on the verge of killing me. It’s an incredibly slim chance, but there’s no way I’m going to risk this bastard killing me. I will order all of their deaths to save my ruthless reputation rather than die at the hands of a weak pussy of a man. What people don’t know can’t be held against me. Not that it will be needed anyway.

Luciano’s men push aside the crates to make space in the center of the room. It’s not much, but it’s enough for me to kick Yakov’s ass.

I don’t take my eyes off my opponent, who’s talking to his father, as I untie the knot on my tie and hand it to Roman for safekeeping. I shrug off my jacket and move on to the buttons on my shirt. Yakov does the same. When we’re bare-chested and weaponless, we face each other.

I stretch my neck left and right until it makes a popping sound. When I’m satisfied, I lift my fists to my face and begin to circle my opponent.

“Does your sister prefer to fuck only your rivals, or is she not picky at all and spreads her legs for just about anyone who crosses her path?” I taunt him, knowing it’ll make him see red. “After I’m done with you, I’ll be sure to stop by your house to check the taste of her pussy myself.”

Fueled by his rage, Yakov is the one to make the first move. I easily dodge the heavy, unrestrained swing. His face is contorted with anger, and even the softest of chuckles makes him even madder. I didn’t think he could sink to a lower level of idiocy, but here we are. Yakov proves to be a weakling beyond all means, which is why I mock him instead of taking him seriously.

We are mere inches apart when he tries to sucker punch me. My face is directed at him as I hit him in the gut with my free hand. He bends forward in a groan, exposing the nape of his neck. It would be so easy to end him right here and now, but it would be too fast. I want him to suffer. He has to pay for what he intended to do to Katarina.

I take a step backward and allow him to recover.

When he’s standing straight again, his deep blue eyes glint with hatred. I smile, unable to contain my smugness. He wants to hit me, but he knows he’ll lose if he does it now. Instead, this time he aims for my stomach. Or at least that’s what I thought. At the last moment, Yakov changes the trajectory of his fist. He throws a mean punch at my chin. It hurts like hell, but I don’t show it. I grit my teeth and keep my wits.

I can feel the sting as the blood pumps wildly through my veins, sending extra oxygen to my muscles. Though my nose begins to bleed, my wits sharpen. My focus comes back tenfold. When he tries to strike me a second time, I catch his wrist in mid-air and twist it back. Yakov groans, but I don’t stop. I also don’t break his bone. My goal is to humiliate him in front of his father, which is why, when I twist him around, I push him toward his father and playfully kick his ass. It works like magic.

Sergey catches his son and whispers something into his ear. Yakov nods and straightens. His breathing is ragged, but the bruises on his chest don’t look good. I’m even beginning to enjoy myself.

We dance for several minutes, dishing out and receiving kicks and punches. I could easily avoid getting hit at all, but I’m having too much fun giving him hope and then seeing the light in his eyes dim every time he realizes I’m too strong for him. Nothing’s more dangerous than the apex predator. And I’m the king of this jungle.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I taunt. “I hope your sister has more stamina than you. But hey, don’t worry if she doesn’t. I’ll ride her until she screams for mercy.”

Just like I expected, my words and crude gestures push him to do something stupid. He narrows his eyes and swears to himself before charging at me. In Yakov’s hurry, he leaves his vulnerable sides exposed. I easily side-step him as I prepare for the maneuver I’ve been itching to try.

As Yakov stumbles, I spin on my heel and aim a powerful kick at his lower back. The scream he lets out is full of agony. His entire body arches backward as he falls to his knees in slow motion and then forward with his face down. If I aimed the kick well, I damaged his spine. But I’m not finished with him yet.

I round him to face me. With the heel of my shoe, I give him a nasty jab to the cheek, creating a cut. The way the blood seeps out is like the opening of a beautiful masterpiece. One I’m completely prepared to experience.

Yakov hisses like a demon from the depths of the underworld. With his bloodshot eyes, he glares at me. Involuntary tears stream down his cheek, no doubt the side effect of the pain I caused him.

“My legs,” he mumbles, spitting blood as he speaks. “Can’t move.”

I stand over him. “You’ll never walk again,” I tell him coldly. “Killing you now will be an act of mercy.”

Yakov winces. “My father will kill you and yours.”

“For what?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “For defending my family?”

“There will be revenge for my death.” He’s confident, but his fear is palpable. There’s not an ounce of pity inside me.

I glance at Sergey, meeting his green eyes. “Any last words for your son?” I ask him.

Sergey’s eyes flicker between Yakov and me. I didn’t think the head of the Gargarin family could surprise me, but in this moment, he does exactly that.

Not caring about the humiliation, Sergey sinks to his knees and folds his hands in a praying gesture. “Please, spare my son,” he begs. “I promise we’ll never be a danger to you. We’ll never threaten you or your family again. If someone dares to even look at you the wrong way, the Gargarins will be the first to gouge out their eyes. We’ll be your fiercest protectors. Your most loyal men. But please, spare my son’s life.”

Behind him, Luciano’s men pale in horror. Roman and Luciano exchange looks of disbelief. I must admit, I did not expect this either. But when I open my mouth to tell Sergey to go fuck himself, my phone rings with a message notification. When Roman shows it to me, my own eyes widen. It’s a message from Peter.

I finally found who called you before you went to Russia. I’m not entirely sure what Gargarin’s plan is, but it was Sergey who made sure they didn’t kill you. We have to keep that in mind the next time we deal with them.

I glance at Roman to confirm he read the same message. When he nods, I turn back to the two Gargarins.

“It was you,” I say to Sergey, who tilts his head in question. “You were the one who called me before my flight to Russia to warn me.”

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