Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)
He’s going to see her.
Fuck.
He’s actually going to see her.
He walks out of the room, and when the door closes, I open my eyes and wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do.
Chapter Thirty
Massimo
Emelia is the last thing I should have on my mind right now as I walk down the alleyway leading to the chamber. That’s what we call it.
It’s the place where we question people.
Question? That’s a mild way to put it since most people we question don’t make it out alive. In fact, I can’t remember when last that happened.
My brothers found a guy who’s been working with Vlad.
They have this fucker now chained to a wall, waiting for me to interrogate him since he has decided he’s not talking. I’m here to make him talk or pay with his life. We’ll see about defiance when I get there.
It’s going to be one of those difficult nights, so I need to put my mind in the right frame.
I continue down the alley, my gun in my side pocket, at the ready in case some wiseguy thinks he can take me out.
Most don’t mess with me when they see me, and most stay clear of this area, gangsters and mobsters alike. They know it belongs to us.
I get to the door and steel my spine when Dominic steps out from the shadows. It was he who called me to come down here.
“Hey,” I say.
“Massimo, this fucker is one crazy son of a bitch. Tried to gouge my fucking eyes out with a knife.” He smirks.
“Fuck. You alright?” I still think of him as my kid brother, but he can more than take care of himself.
He nods. “Don’t worry about me, bro. Let’s do this.”
We continue down the path and head down into the basement. Above is a bookie office we own.
It’s busier during the day. At this time of night, we have just one guard on site by the front entrance. Tonight, we have three, just in case any shit happens.
I push open the metal door, and Dominic and I walk into the room, where our guest is indeed chained to the wall. He’s been beaten badly. Tristan is standing in front of him, sharpening my knives.
The fucker on the wall is a fat balding asshole with two missing teeth. I don’t know if that came from his encounter with my brothers, or if he already looked like that when he got here. It doesn’t matter to me either way. Missing teeth will be the last of his problems when I finish with him.
“Knives are ready, Boss,” Tristan says with a dark smile.
I tip my head. “Wonderful, now on to business,” I state, looking back at my guest. “Name?”
“Yev Lobochev,” Dominic replies. “Age thirty-seven, although he looks like shit. He’s from Russia, of the Pelov Brotherhood, or so he used to be until he joined the Circle of Shadows.”
“Motherfucker!” Yev shouts at Dominic.
I answer him with a kick to his stomach, which makes him howl with pain.
“Speak when you are spoken to,” I hiss and eye him sharply. I look back to Tristan and hold out my hand. He passes me two knives. Throwing knives. I have a set of ten. Usually, on the tenth the victim dies, but by then, I have the intel I need.
I focus on Yev, and the room goes quiet.