There was no one else other than Russo responsible.
Behind the scenes, Damon had been taking control of all of Russo’s assets. Stripping him down piece by piece until he had absolutely nothing left. He had Russo’s daughter, which stopped him from being able to sell her or merge with anyone else.
This was retaliation.
“Where are we going?” Milah asked.
He climbed into the back of a car, keeping Milah beside him. Then he waited as Raoul and James climbed in the front and drove them across town to where Raoul had set up a special house that was safe enough to deal with traitors.
With Russo as their enemy, using warehouses had been out of the question. Especially as during one of their more vicious spells, Russo had torched several of their warehouses with people inside.
He had to be careful.
“Answer me.”
Damon stayed silent. She tried to wriggle out of his grip, but there was no use. He was the one in control, not her. She had to give up.
She released a heavy sigh, not at all happy with conceding. Soon, she would learn that she’d have no choice but to give in if she wanted to survive in his world.
They didn’t like traitors or anyone associated with them.
They arrived at the safehouse without any problems. He had no doubt Russo watched his every move. He wouldn’t put it past the bastard to attack even with her by his side.
The man didn’t love his daughter. He only cared about himself. Even the men who swore loyalty to him were nothing but fodder.
When it came to Russo, he knew nothing but rage.
Once they were securely in the building, Damon helped Milah out of the car and walked her out of the main garage. She came to a stop when she saw the three men responsible hung from chains that were attached to the ceiling. Two were around their wrists, and another wrapped around their neck.
Bound up.
Bleeding.
Bruised.
Already in pain.
Milah gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. “What are you doing?”
“Do you know there are many ways to get a confession? The longest, I think, is through seduction. Earning their trust, only to turn on them when they least expect it. Then you’ve got the ultimate betrayal of invading enemy territory. My personal favorite is torture,” Damon said. “Pain and fear is a good mix of getting people to talk.”
“How can you know they will tell you the truth?” Milah asked.
“It’s quite easy.” He looked at the three men.
His men had stripped them down to their boxer briefs. There were no tattoos or marks that showed who they belonged to. They were trained though. He saw that from the footage. All three of them knew how to shoot, but Russo’s mark would have made his life easier.
Now he had to battle with them, not that he minded. He was great at getting what he wanted.
Each man had a weak spot. The question was who the weakest was.
Staring at all three men, he went to the one in the middle. This man had already pissed himself and was visibly shaking. His gaze kept going to his men and trying to find an exit.
“Who do you work for?” he asked.
The man continued to vibrate, and Damon smiled at him.
“Please, don’t kill me.”
“I’m going to kill you. There is no doubt about it, but I need to know who you worked for.”
“I have a wife. Children. Please. Please. I beg you.”
“We won’t tell you a fucking thing,” this came from the man on the right.
Damon stared at them and smiled. “Let’s see who will cave first.”
He went to Raoul, who held out a knife for him. It was a nice length with a sharp point, one his grandfather once owned, and he turned back to the middle man, who screamed.
“It was Russo! He told us we had to attack your nightclubs. Tomorrow night it will be your brothels.”
“Shut the fuck up!” The men started to wriggle free of his chains, but Damon had heard enough. He nodded at Raoul, who grabbed Milah, covered her eyes, and spun her away as he slashed the knife across the three men’s necks.
Dropping the knife to the floor, he took over from Raoul, dragging a panicked Milah from the room.
The moment they were out of sight and sound, and the door closed, he let her go. She rounded on him, lifting her hand to slap him.
He captured her wrist. She growled, pulled back, and tried again, but he stopped her.
Milah was good, but he was better, and tonight, she wasn’t going to slap him.
“Let me go.”
He kept hold of her wrist and pulled her close. “James is going to take you to a room. Get changed and make yourself look pretty.”
“How can I do that? I didn’t bring any clothes with me,” she said.
He smiled. “Do you think I wasn’t prepared for that?” He nodded at James, who had followed him out of the room. Before they left his country house, he’d told James that he was to stay close by Milah’s side. He wouldn’t put it past her to try to escape.