Kaznachei’s Pain

by Mason, V. F.

  Someday, she would be the reason for his existence.

  And that would be the day I would take her away from him.

  Yes.

  Revenge truly tasted delicious.

  Yuri

  Stepping inside the warehouse, I lifted my chin in greeting to all the byki. They did the same and then pointed at the man sitting in the middle of the place. He was pinned to the chair with a heavy metal chain, the gag still in his mouth coated in spit that dripped down his chin and onto the floor. His head hung forward, several bruises marking his skin.

  Reading my silent question, one of the byki said, “He was a bit difficult, so we made sure he was compliant.” He waited a second for my reaction and, when it didn’t come, elaborated. “However, we didn’t do any damage, so he is fully awake. It just probably hurt a little.”

  “Good.” They did everything their training required, so I couldn’t shout at them for touching a man who my fists itched to smash into the ground.

  I snapped my fingers and, one by one, they exited the warehouse, shutting the door loudly behind them, leaving me alone with the man who slowly raised his head. Sweat plastered his hair and clothes to his body. For all the muscles he had, he sure went down easily.

  Probably hoped for the poison in his ring to end his life quickly.

  His brown eyes trailed my movements as I grabbed the empty chair and straddled it, giving him a blank smile, and he frowned, clearly confused.

  He expected torture right away, and demands, but, oh well, I knew psychology well. A man who was willing to die for his brotherhood without so much as a fight spoke of big loyalty.

  Or fear, depending on how one looked at it. But I knew the man behind this plan.

  And he inspired only fear, having no clue how to rule beyond the means he possessed.

  “Name?” I asked, and he straightened, giving me a fuck you with his stare, although he did tremble slightly—likely from his finger.

  I noticed it had turned purple already and probably hurt like a motherfucker. “No message for me?” I questioned again, but he had the same stare, as if laughing.

  Well, then.

  I got up and ripped open a new box of blue latex gloves, putting them on loudly as the ends slapped against my wrists. Sliding my finger along the weapons displayed on the table, I heard him pulling at his restraints and huffing, clearly not getting the result he so desperately wanted. “Your life has no value for me or him.” He paused his struggling, breathing heavily as I picked up a BC-41 blade with the sharpest tip and tapped it against the table. “You are dead either way. But I can make it less panful.” I turned around to face him again and noticed a drop of sweat sliding down his nose as he nervously glanced from the blade to me and again to the table.

  My assessment had been right the first time around, when I saw several scars on his cheek. As a child, he must have experienced severe injuries to cause them; so for him, they embodied his greatest fear.

  And fear is like love—it makes people do a lot of stuff with the right amount of pressure.

  He mumbled something through the cloth, so I leaned forward, digging it out as he gulped a breath and spat on the floor. “Fuck you, Kaznachei,” he muttered, and I rolled my eyes.

  Pulling my arm back, I hit him in the face so hard his head flew to the side. His nose cracked under my punch and he groaned loudly, his blood dripping to the floor. “Now let’s try again without the disrespect,” I said, clucking my tongue. “What is the message?” I grabbed him by his chin, focusing his attention back on me, as where he held his head was barely at my eye level.

  “She is—” he mumbled, and I leaned closer, but he shut his mouth, muttering something under his breath.

  Without warning, I stabbed him in the stomach, and he cried out when I twisted the knife. Blood coated his black shirt, and I tried again. “The message?”

  Melissa’s life was on the line, and I had to use any advantage I could get. “Please don’t,” he finally replied, barely staying awake. “She is the key.”

  “The key?” I prompted. He blinked a few times as if acknowledging my words, and I shook him the minute I noticed his eyes rolling back. “Why is she the key?” Had he lost his mind?

  Why would an FBI agent be the fucking key to anything?

  He stayed silent, so I twisted the knife once more, and he cried out again, using the last of his strength to move but failing. “She is yours, so she is key.” I removed the blade and blood oozed from the wound. He could barely breathe.

  He didn’t know anything else; that was obvious. It was like that fucking idiot to speak in riddles to his men.

  I took out the gun and placed it against his temple as our eyes met, his relieved and mine void. “Pust Zemlya budet tebe puhom,” I said, and he closed his eyes, chanting a prayer as I fired the gun, bits of his brain flying in different directions.

  Throwing the weapons and gloves on the table, I wondered how long I’d be able to keep it from Dominic and Vitya, because dealing on my own wouldn’t work.

  We had a bigger problem than I had initially anticipated.

  Chapter Six

  Moscow, Russia

  Yuri, 18 years old

  “This is insane,” Savannah whispered against my mouth, while I pushed her farther into the barn, and she giggled as we stumbled on the hay.

  She ended up on her back. I covered her body with mine, my hard-on digging into her stomach, and she moaned softly.

  “Mr. Radionov, are you in a certain mood?” she asked, while trailing her fingers to my shirt and clumsily unbuttoning it as I shifted to her neck, inhaling her scent.

  “Yes, I want to fuck you hard,” I replied, and she stilled in my arms. I almost cursed my fucking tongue for saying stupid shit like that.

  Savannah didn't like dirty talk, because she called what little we did “making love” and nothing else. The minute the word fuck slipped through my mouth, she would always lose the mood for any action.

  She pushed me aside and I didn't fight it. I sat next to her while she adjusted her shirt, panting. “After a week of not seeing each other, this is how you ruin the reunion?” She frowned, turning her face away from me while I leaned forward to soothe her.

  My fist clenched, and I took a deep breath while counting to ten to calm my dick down. It seriously needed action.

  We’d been doing this shit for a year without going further, and while she was all about kissing and touching, she never let me have more. And I didn't mean to sound like a dick or anything, but my limit was close. I didn't want anyone but her.

  But I needed sex like yesterday. Jerking off was not doing it for me anymore, and I was the only fucking virgin left in the brotherhood. While no one expected me to fuck whores because they thought I had a chick on the side, thanks to the guys who spread rumors so I wouldn't be forced to admit my relationship with Savannah, it still grated on my nerves that everyone wanted to know who I was doing.

  “Savannah, I can’t do this anymore,” I finally said, and she glanced at me, surprised, but quickly her eyes filled with tears, and repulsion at myself washed over me.

  Oddly enough, the guilt had become a familiar feeling around her lately, and while I hated it, I couldn't shake it off.

  “So that’s how it is, huh? A girl isn’t putting out and you tell her you can’t take it?”

  I closed my eyes, inhaling as much air as possible, hoping it would calm the annoyance building inside me.

  We had been dating for the last two years, and everyone had a fucking limit. I always respected her decisions, never pushed for more, but at this rate, with touching but never fucking coming, I wouldn't be able to take it much longer or I’d lose my mind.

  “I’d never do that,” I replied while she wiped away the tears, and I slid my hand into her hair, bringing us closer, even though she resisted for a second. “But if you aren’t ready for more, then I think we shouldn’t do anything else either.” No matter how much I tried to get her to open up to me about sex
, she would never answer. She clearly faced some kind of trauma, but she wouldn't talk and I didn't want to dwell.

  God knew I had my own secrets, secrets Savannah would never know, as they would forever repulse her.

  “I’m just afraid,” she whispered, and I rested my forehead on hers and wondered.

  “Of what?”

  “What if I get pregnant? My father will kill me!” She dug deeper into my chest, while I rocked her, hoping to calm her down.

  Those fears of hers had merit, because both brotherhoods would never forgive that or allow it, at least for now, when I was still a recruit and not a fully-fledged member.

  “If it comes to that—” I started, and was about to say that I would marry her if there was a baby, but I couldn’t say it.

  I couldn’t, because I would be spreading my father’s fucked-up seed into the world and no child deserved that.

  No woman deserved that.

  Fuck.

  I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get over it, and the thought never entered my mind before. In my head, there was no other woman in my future but Savannah, but I always thought we’d spend it together.

  I didn’t need anyone else, but apparently she did. And I vowed to always give her what she desired.

  She palmed my face, bringing us closer. “I know you would do the right thing. But we are nowhere ready for it. Please, give me time?” she whispered, and the cowardly part in me exhaled in relief.

  I didn’t have it in me to tell her the truth. Instead, I wrapped my hands tightly around her as we shared a sweet kiss, and I replied, “You have all my time, baby. For you, I will wait forever.”

  And it was the God’s honest truth.

  Only we didn’t have forever.

  New York, New York

  August 2017

  Melissa

  Yawning loudly, I walked out of my room wearing pajamas and a hoodie.

  Tea. I needed freaking tea, because waking up at seven in the morning after a psycho wanted to kill me was torture. Literally, everything hurt, and I could barely sleep comfortably on the bed. Add to it the workout of the not-used-in-a-long-time muscles during sex, and I had one freaking aching body that needed a long soak in the bath.

  But it was impossible to do with Yuri in the next room. I had no clue when he would want to check up on me, and I had a suspicion he wouldn’t mind watching me there.

  Not happening.

  I yawned again, but it got trapped in my throat as I blinked when I saw a silver-haired guy in my house, singing offkey to a tune on the radio while munching on pizza.

  Sitting on my white freaking couch that cost a few thousand bucks!

  He paused his chewing when he noticed me standing in the doorway and waved, biting on the slice again while talking with his mouth full. “Oh hey. Rise and shine, huh?” He grinned but then scanned my appearance and turned to the side, as if to avoid looking at me.

  Oh hey?

  Oh freaking hey?

  “Who the hell are you?” I screeched, and he frowned.

  “Gleb.”

  “That explains everything,” I replied sarcastically, but although his name was Russian, I didn’t detect an accent. Was he one of the American recruits?

  He nodded and went back to flipping through my latest magazines with lots of guns. He pointed at one on a page. “I like this, but if you want to get it, I advise the latest model. The earlier ones suck.” He flipped the page again while I blinked and then groaned into my hands as I covered my face.

  But then I remembered the file I had on the Konstantinov Bratva and located the face in my mind. He was Gleb Gazmanov, one of the elite five of the brotherhood. They were raised together, fought together, and more importantly, acted like a unit that protected each other fiercely. I had no clue what each one of them experienced to end up in Moscow, but it probably wasn’t pretty.

  The Konstantinov Bratva operated the brotherhood in Russia and all the borders where it handled their dealings. They were a powerful mafia house that had connections everywhere especially with their pakhan snagging, or rather kidnapping, the Cosa Nostra’s princess. Not that Emiliano Giovanni was thrilled about the match, but I guessed he couldn’t do jack shit when his daughter chose Dominic.

  It didn’t end the way they both anticipated though, but that was another issue. I had to focus on my current problem before I could go save the world.

  Taking a deep breath, I asked more calmly, “Where is Yuri?” He raised his green eyes to me, and I had to give it to the guy—he was handsome with his exotic looks. He probably had the ladies lined up for him.

  He had nothing on his brother though, who could make my head spin with just one single stare.

  “You had a guest in the middle of the night.” My eyes widened at the information. “So we took care of him, and Yuri is currently interrogating him,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it was no freaking big deal disclosing this to an FBI agent. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up though, as I don’t think he’ll spill shit,” he added, and took another bite of his pizza before he offered me the box. “Want some?”

  I had a feeling I’d woken up in a different reality, because what else explained the madness?

  Before I could comment, the front door burst open and a redheaded guy barged in carrying two coffee cups by the smell of it and a cell phone box. “Hey!” he greeted me, and then addressed Gleb. “Got everything you wanted.” He placed it carefully on the table and then, with a nod to me, exited the condo.

  Gleb motioned to the cups. “One of them is tea. Be my guest.”

  Snapping out of my stupor, I put my hands on my hips and asked, “Your guest? I’m supposed to be your guest in my apartment.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t give him the chance. “No offense, Gleb, but could you please get out of my house? And not eat sticky pizza on my white couch!” I shouted while he just blinked, glancing down.

  “If I stain it, I’ll buy you a new one,” he offered and leaned back, flipping another freaking page.

  “You can’t buy me a new one. It’s a limited edition.”

  He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

  I huffed in frustration and paced the room back and forth, even though my stomach screamed at me to slow down. “This is unbelievable.” I faced him as his brows rose. “I think your brotherhood doesn’t understand the fact that I’m not just a woman, but an FBI agent. You can’t come into my house as you wish, you can’t talk about torturing a guy as if it’s a normal thing to do, and more importantly, if someone barges inside my house… I have to deal with him!” I finished on a higher note, and instantly wrapped my hands around my throat because it was still sore. “Is that clear?” I croaked through my dry throat and willed myself to calm down. What was going on with me anyway? I’d never acted this stupid or irrational in my life.

  “Crystal,” he finally said, and then stood up, wiping his hands with a napkin, grabbing the cup of tea, and extending it to me. “Should help with your pain.”

  Exasperated, I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You guys think you are kings of the world.” And why shouldn’t they? Most of them knew no one was ever going to charge them.

  They were smart not to cross the law in plain sight.

  He laughed, and for the first time I detected bitterness in his demeanor, but he quickly covered it up with indifference. “It’s like magic.”

  Frowning, I mumbled, “What?” I started to think this guy wasn’t normal, because he acted so breezy around me. The guys I’d met so far had been nothing but dead serious or avoided me like the plague.

  “Being a member of the mafia. It’s like magic.”

  “Because life is so great?” I supplied, not really understanding where he was going with his point. I couldn’t think of anything magical about living in their world and always being afraid to watch your back.

  Being an agent wasn’t a safe job either, but at least I knew I was working for the greater good. How did they sleep at nigh
t doing vile things and killing people daily? Every kill took part of my soul, but it only happened for me ten times, and each person was engraved in my brain like a stamp that would never go away.

  “It has a price,” he finally said and glanced to the side as the uncomfortable silence settled when I shifted to the side, hoping to ease the ache in my stomach.

  Maybe mafia members did have demons chasing them after all; they just never let them out to play.

  “Anyway, Yuri asked me to look after you, and until he comes back, I’m afraid you’ll have to accept my company.” He went to the kitchen and dropped the pizza box on the counter.

  “I can have you arrested just like that.” I snapped my fingers, but he just shrugged.

  “Not really. On what grounds?”

  I pressed a fist against my lips, counting to ten in my head to calm down and not punch him in the face for acting so arrogant in my country and my condo! What an unbelievable man. Good luck to any woman who would tolerate him. “You know what? You guys do whatever the hell you want, and I’m going to be minding my business.” Glancing at the clock, I calculated I had about twenty minutes to get ready for work, since I had a meeting scheduled with Honey at eight. I’d seen a lizard tattoo on the man who attacked me, and she promised to run a search for me and check several of my previous cases. I had a lot of work to do and no desire to waste my time on Gleb.

  I picked up the steaming cup and went back to my room to get ready for the exhausting day.

  So much for no-strings-attached sex.

  Yuri

  Drumming my fingers on the table while Vitya sat opposite me and sipped his coffee, I did my best to stay calm, although I felt anything but. “Dominic has to know about this,” Vitya said, tapping his finger on the table. “He is the pakhan. You cannot declare a war without his permission.”

  “I’m not declaring anything for now. But you know better than me he is in no condition for me to bring up this problem.” His lips thinned as he looked to the side, probably feeling out of sorts for Dom as well.