“Hmm, do you suspect she has anything to do with this?” I question him.
Immediately Michail shakes his head and sinks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “No, not at all. She spoke kindly of Dema, said she bought her coffee a few weeks back and they chat from time to time. She heard of our cameras and the café’s cameras being broken.” It’s not just our cameras that were broken, it’s all of our neighboring businesses within the block radius. Basically, anyone who could’ve seen something and given it to us was taken out, but whoever took my Dema didn’t account for the public helping us. We had our new cameras installed yesterday, with a sort of cage around them to be protected from being hit or an attempt to break them. “Did you hear anything I just said?” Michail asks, pulling me from my deep thoughts.
“What? No. What did you say?” I question him, focusing better this time.
“I said Katya called. She’ll be here in two hours. She’s coming from Istanbul and heard what happened.”
I narrow my eyes in on my most trusted man, more confused than ever. Sure, Katya cares about the people who work for Pins and Needles, but does she care enough to fly out here for them? Again, I have that same sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My phone begins to ring so I turn toward my desk and see it’s Katya. Out of instinct I grab it and answer, pressing it to my ear while the footage Michail was able to obtain plays before me.
I see Dema in the alleyway with her back turned toward the camera. She has a hand on the wall and appears like she’s simply standing there for a few minutes. A man comes up from behind her as she turns and he moves in unison, almost like he’s a stealthy assassin in a video game. But as she turns to head back toward the tattoo parlor, the man grabs her and shoves something in front of her face, then she goes down.
“I was just speaking about you,” I tell Katya in a stoic voice as I process what I’ve just watched.
“I will be there in an hour-and-a-half now. Have you heard anything of Dema’s whereabouts?” As always, Katya acts as if she has the solution for every situation.
“No, nothing definitive. Although, Michail was able to obtain video surveillance of the man who took her, it looks like he dragged her through the back of the alley and pulled her into a black van. I can’t see the plates from this angle. I appreciate your concern, but this is something I can handle. I can find her.” Even though I’m telling Katya I can find her, I don’t know if I’ll be successful. I don’t know who took her, or why, but when I find them, I’ll make them go through things they never even thought were possible in the darkest of their nightmares.
“I’m coming to help, Kronid. Now you accept it because no matter what you say I won’t be changing my mind. I’ll do what I can and speak to who I must to hear what’s been going on behind closed doors, and I’ll even go to the jeweler for you and get that unique ring I promised you I’d help you find.”
I walk over to the wall and lean my alternate arm up against it, staring down into the alleyway Dema was snatched from. “I don’t know how something like this happens under my own nose.”
“It’s happened to many people like yourself, Kronid.”
I scoff, unable to hold back my true feelings. “I find that hard to believe.”
Katya lets out a laugh. “I’ve seen situations like this happen far too many times than I can count.”
“I can handle this, Katya. I don’t need you to come in and use your resources to save her. I’ll find her. People know me here, they’ve learned to respect me.”
“I’m coming and that’s the last time you’ll try to talk me out of this. People respect you because you work for me, don’t get it twisted, Kronid. You’re feared on the streets because of the place you have within my hierarchy. Now shut your mouth for a moment and listen to what I’m about to say, I know who Dema’s biological father was.”
Dema was adopted by the man her mother married when they lived in the United States. She told me she didn’t know who her biological father was, but felt she never needed to know since she had a father who was with her when it counted the most.
“Her father is my deceased husband, Sergei Kolosov. In the beginning of our marriage, we had a . . . menage a trois with a beautiful ballet dancer. Long story short, Sergei got her pregnant. The child was obviously unplanned and he already had another child, Natasha, who I’m sure you know about.”
I know Katya’s making a sly jab at me because I’m the reason for Anton Balan’s death, and Anton was Natasha’s husband . . . which means I’m the man responsible for Dema’s sister losing her husband. Fuck. I wasn’t a good man at the time, I was deranged, misinformed, and stupid. Ironically, my half-sister having her man cast me to Katya’s business, which was meant to be a prison gave me my life back. It gave me a second chance.
“The agreement is that neither of us would be involved in the child’s life, but she would always be provided for. When her parents died, her grandparents started receiving the funds to take care of her, and now that she’ll be old enough very soon, she’ll begin getting the money from her father’s estate . . . as will Natasha, and Larisa.”
“Who’s Larisa?” I question, never hearing the name before.
“The child my husband had with my younger sister, Ksenia, though the creation of her daughter is not for the faint of heart. Larisa wasn’t created out of love, but a foul act by a man.” I easily read between the lines. “So, you can see why I’m coming. In a way, Dema is my responsibility and I will do whatever I can to keep her safe. Her father was a monster, though it doesn’t mean she is. Is there anything specific I should know about, any sort of clue I can go off of? I’ll reach out to my allies while I’m still on the plane and see what I’ll have for you when I land.”
I glance over to the screen of the laptop and see some sort of smudge on the guy’s neck, so I zoom in and clarify it, staring and enhancing the image until I can easily make it out. “There’s a wolf on his neck, a wolf tattoo.”
“A wolf you say?” Katya murmurs quietly.
“Yes, a wolf.”
“When I land, you’d best be ready. Bring your best men and plenty of gunfire. I may know where Dema is, and by God, we’ll be in for the fight of our lives.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dema
The belt comes down on my skin again and I do my best to keep from crying out. The impact of the metal buckle against my skin singes me like nothing I’ve ever felt every time it makes contact. I bite down on my bottom lip every time, much rather having it bleed than giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurting me.
After his initial taunting, Maxim went back upstairs. He’d stayed up there for a long while. Or at least I think he did. It could have been minutes, hours, or maybe even days. I don’t know since he’d turned the light back off, leaving me in the dark alone with nothing but my thoughts.
When he came back downstairs, Maxim removed the chain from around my neck, dragged me to the center of the room where he connected my wrists to shackles. They were attached to pillars on both sides of the room. He did the same with my legs, forcing me to leave myself vulnerable to his touch if he were to even attempt such a thing.
Now Maxim stands satisfied with my positioning. He removes his belt slowly and smiles gleefully at me. “This is how a whore is supposed to be treated,” he states as he proceeds to start my painful experience.
I don’t even know how long it’s been since he’d come back down, or how many times he’s brought the belt against my skin. I want nothing more than to beg him to stop. To plead with him to leave me alone, but it’s pointless. Even I can see it in his eyes, there is no talking this man out of harming me.
“You only have your family name to thank for this treatment,” Maxim cackles, bringing the belt against my flesh once again with a snap of the leather. Maxim continues to bring his belt down on my skin, making sure to leave no part of me untouched.
The sound of metal hitting concrete sends a shiver down my s
pine. I lift my gaze to take in what he’s doing now. I first notice the belt on the ground, then I notice Maxim’s opened his pants and his shaft is out. If I weren’t in so much pain or scared he might do something more harmful, I might laugh at the puny thing he can barely grip.
“Whores should know their place, and you should not be allowed to show your face. I’ll show you what it means to be marked by a Volkolv,” he snickers and circles around me. “These hideous dreads should be chopped off, they’re disgusting.”
No. No. No.
Please whoever is listening to me, don’t let him do anything to my hair. Or whatever else he might be thinking.
Kronid might have thought what he and I did was rape, but I’d given him my permission, knowing we didn’t have a choice. This time around if Maxim does anything to me it will be rape and I don’t think I could bare to live with myself knowing he placed his nastiness within my body.
Maxim’s hand slides through my dreads, gripping a fist full and yanks my head to the side. “I’ll show you how you need to be treated, how your sisters should be treated, but you’ll suffer for the three of you. You were the easiest to pluck from the nest and right in my neck of the woods too. It couldn’t have been more perfect,” he spits his words out, his accent thick and daunting.
I cringe and squeeze my eyes shut as Maxim presses his front into my back and rubs himself against the crevice of my backside. Using his free hand not holding my hair, he reaches around, drags his fingertips roughly along my skin, making sure to pinch my nipples harshly in his motions. Maxim grunts against my shoulder as he continues to rub his shaft against me while his hand slides up to my neck where he applies pressure.
Enough pressure that causes me to not be able to breathe.
“See, this is how you should be treated,” he growls, his hips pressing into me.
My mouth gapes as I try to find air but I’m unable to do so. Maxim’s hand is blocking all supply from entering my lungs.
Again, I beg whoever is listening to me, to please not let me die like this.
Maxim’s thrusts against my rear increase and as spurts of his cum hit me, he releases my throat but only so he can bite into the crease where my shoulder and neck meet. I’m unable to stop myself from screaming in agonizing pain.
Releasing my neck, Maxim steps away and I feel the blood he’s drawn from piercing my skin as well as his filthy seed sliding against my backside.
“How does it feel to be marked by such a powerful man, whore?” he cackles manically.
Tears spill from my eyes as I shake my head. My throat throbs and I can’t speak even if I want to.
The shackles at my wrists and ankles are loosened and I collapse onto the floor. I didn’t even realize they were the only thing keeping me upright. Maxim’s sinister laughter is the only sound in the room as it vibrates off the walls.
God, I hope Kronid finds me soon. I know he will. He has to.
My mind starts to become hazy and I know I won’t be able to stay awake for much longer. I’m so tired.
“Are you ready for the next round of fun?” Maxim asks, kicking me in my thigh.
Groaning, I curl further into a protective ball.
“Don’t worry, whore, it’ll all be over for you soon enough. Well, it will be once I finish having my fun,” he snorts.
I crack my eyes open to find Maxim walking around me once again this time with a bundle of rope in his hand. Part of the bundle is already attached to something hanging from the ceiling.
Oh, great he’s going to hang me.
How sick can this asshole be?
Maxim kneels down next to me and I thought he’d wrap the scratchy material of the rope around my neck. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. Instead, he grasps both of my wrists and ties them together.
What is he doing?
The lunatic begins to hum some song as he tightens the rope into place. I follow him with my eyes as he stands and moves down my body only to squat once again, still humming that tune. This time he latches a cold leather material around my ankles.
“Now for the fuck part, whore. For your father’s deceptions. For your sisters being born in the first place. I hope you understand when I say you are paying trifold for being of their bloodline,” he snarks as he stands and moves away from me once again. Does this man not even realize I know nothing about my father, or even these sisters he speaks of? I don’t know them at all!
My heart begins to race as Maxim walks away, his form leaving my line of vision.
All of a sudden, a loud squeaking noise fills the room and then my arms are being yanked on as I’m lifted off the floor. My screams of anguish fill the room as I feel my arms pop out of socket. Then something else even more horrifying happens the higher into the air I ascend. My legs are popped out of joints from what I realize is weights that Maxim attached to me.
I’m unable to stop my screams of pain as I plead for him to stop. The pain is unbearable, and I just want it to stop. I barely recognize my own voice.
Why couldn’t he just shoot me in the head like a normal person? If he’s so determined to send a message then why torture me? Why not get it over with?
My vision blurs as my head lulls forward. Closing my eyes, I submit myself to the pain as I know this is the end. When Kronid finally comes for me, it’ll be too late. At least I was granted the few hours of happiness with him before my death.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I wish the end would hurry so I can finally be at peace. I no longer want to feel this pain.
Chapter Eighteen
Kronid
An hour-and-a-half passes and Katya is finally in the basement of Pins and Needles. I keep looking around the area, scanning for Michail. He said he needed to run an errand right after I got off the phone with her and yet he hasn’t returned. I don’t know what sort of errand he’s run off to tend to, but he needs to be here. If Katya knows where my woman is then we’re charging in at a moment’s notice. I won’t wait for anyone, even Michail.
“You said you’d show me an image of the wolf, so show me,” Katya urges, walking toward me. She’s in her high-heeled boots as normal and half the time I’m convinced she could slice someone’s throat with how sharp those damn things are.
I take my cell from my pocket and pull up my camera, tap on the image I had enhanced earlier today and hand it over to her.
“Just as I thought,” she murmurs quietly, and then looks back to her men. “Ready the men, we’re going in.”
“All due respect, Boss, but I wouldn’t advise any of us walking in on—”
Katya pulls her gun and within an instant a shot’s rung out and the man trying to offer his advice is on the ground, holding his knee as he bleeds. “Does anyone else here want to give me unsolicited advice, or are you going to fucking do as your told?!” Katya snaps, nostrils flaring at her group of six men who came with her. She glares down at the man who spoke up and walks toward him. “Do you not care for my kin, Oleg? Do you not care for what happens to Kronid’s woman, who happens to be my stepdaughter, Dema?”
“N-no, I wasn’t suggesting such a thing. I only meant to be of service to you—”
“How can you be helpful when such stupid shit comes from your mouth like diarrhea. You have diarrhea of the mouth, asshole. You speak when spoken to, do you understand me?” Katya’s accent comes out thick with her anger and just as she’s screaming at her idiotic man, Michail comes charging down the stairwell.
“She’s at the Volkolv compound.”
At his words Katya stops berating her man and smirks. “A resourceful one you have here. I was just about to get to that part. The wolf tattoo on the neck signifies it’s a Volkolv man. The tattoo is the way they show commitment to the head of the Volkolv family, who happens to be Maxim.”
I’ve heard rumors about Maxim Volkolv, how he was the mad child of Valentin Volkolv and his mistress. But what I know the most is how Maxim wasn’t supposed to get the heir to the Russian throne, instead it should’ve been his e
ldest son, Aleksandr. I don’t know the circumstances around Aleksandr not getting the title, but it always comes down to love. I know Aleksandr is married to an Irish mafia princess, and Valentin Volkolv had a longstanding war with the Irish. My guess is when he chose his wife, he walked away from the potential of being the boss.
“I know which estate Maxim stays at. My men constantly have eyes on him,” Katya speaks up, looking to me, and then to Michail.
“Well then, what the fuck are we waiting for?” I speak up.
Before I know it, we’re all exiting the garage bay, minus Katya’s broken man, and we’re in two large SUVs driving at what feels like lightning-fast speed to get to the Volkolv estate. It’s on the other end of Moscow and is tucked away in a private community, ironic considering Maxim is the man who prefers to put on a show.
Katya’s men crash the SUVs through the gates, not giving a flying fuck at the damage they put on the property or the vehicles themselves. The cars come to a screeching halt at the top of the hill, and we all open our doors, guns loaded, ready for the fight of our lives.
One of Maxim’s men comes charging over and pulls his gun up, immediately stopping when he sees Katya. She smiles cockily and looks at the man. “Take me to my cousin, dog. This is Volkolv business, and Volkolv business only.”
“I . . . apologize. I didn’t know it was you, Katya.” The man looks down onto the ground and holds his hand up, signaling everyone to stop shooting. I look over to my boss and she gives me a nod, signaling me to be quiet and let her handle things. I keep quiet and follow her closely as Maxim’s goon takes us in through the back door of his estate, into some sort of living room.
In a matter of seconds, a blond man with a buzz cut and tons of tattoos is coming into the living room. “Cousin, to what do I owe this very unexpected visit?”
“Cut the shit, Maxim. You have my stepdaughter and I’d like her back.”
Blood & Agony: A Dark Criminal Romance (Pins and Needles: Moscow Book 1) Page 8