Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(5)



His expression was one of amusement more than anything else, but there was something a bit predatory about it as well, but this, and the rest of the night, was lost on Alex as the pill started kicking in.

First a tingling in her stomach, then a gradual, but all-consuming warmth filled her, as Snow’s hand closed around the nape of her neck, tilting her face up to smash his lips against her own. That only intensified everything she was feeling.

Now, her heart was racing, her hands were trembling, and as he worked the zipper of her dress down, she had never felt more alive.





2

____





The Enforcer





Wiping the blood from his hands with the tail end of the man’s shirt, Luka Sergeyev stepped back, snapping his fingers in front of Donnie Jefferson’s face to regain his attention. He didn’t need the guy passing out before they got to the actual reason Luka had paid him a visit.

Sticking the knife he favored back into his pocket, Luka sighed, knowing that he had probably taken it too far with the amount of cuts that were still oozing blood, but there was no other way to guarantee that he got his point across. Pain made people more receptive to persuasion.

Luka had learned this the hard way, but that was ages ago, back when he was just a boy.

Curling his hand around Donnie’s shoulder, he dug his fingers into one of the particularly ugly cuts there, feeling the skin and muscle give as he shoved his finger deeper.

The man’s response was immediate and loud. Luka tried not to let that excite him.

“Now that I have your attention, you have two options. Tell me where the money is and we can get this finished up now. Maybe I’ll drop you at a hospital—that’s debatable—but at least you’ll get to go home. The second option, you don’t give me the money and I show you how creative I can get over the next two hours. I mean”—Luka gestured to the man though it was doubtful he could see himself with the blood leaking in his eyes—“you see what I can do with a knife. Imagine what I’ll do once I’m inspired.”

Groaning, Donnie tried replying, the words coming out rushed and jumbled, but with another firm squeeze from Luka, he was able to force them out. “It’s in the safe.”

“Good man.”

Removing his finger from the newly bleeding wound, Luka circled the chair, placing his hands on the back to wheel the man over to the state-of-the-art safe installed into the wall that not only had a digital lock, but one that also required a retina scan.

Donnie was a rather smart businessman. At least when it came to screwing over his clients who signed over their life savings for what they thought he could provide them. The problem was that he was operating on Bratva territory, and when said Bratva protected one of the clients he screwed over, it was Luka’s job to pay him a visit.

That was what it meant to be a Bratva enforcer.

While Luka didn’t always enjoy the carnage he left in his wake, when he had a job like this…he enjoyed it a little too much. For the last half hour—a new record, even for him—he had made intricate carvings in the man’s flesh, always careful not to cut too deep or too quick, just enough that the person on the receiving end felt it everywhere, but not enough that they would pass out anytime soon.

Considering the fact that he was duct taped to a chair, Donnie couldn’t open the safe himself. Instead, he gave the combination to Luka, who had it popped open in seconds. There were stacks of bundled money, enough to know that there were undoubtedly hundreds of families out of thousands of dollars.

Luka emptied the safe, dumping the money in an old backpack he carried with him. He was only meant to take just enough to cover what Donnie had taken from one of his victims, but with the mood he was in, Luka took it all.

Finished, he tossed the bag by the door, feeling the man’s eyes on him.

Donnie would probably pack up and head out of state where he would set up another operation similar to this one and start all over again, far away from where Luka could get to him.

Luka had never liked men like Donnie, and if he were better at controlling himself with the coppery scent of blood embedding itself in his mouth, he might have left.

But that wasn’t who Luka was.

Not giving it a second thought, Luka pulled the blade from his pocket, walking back over to Donnie who was shaking his head forcefully, pleading behind his gag, but he couldn’t do anything to stop what was about to happen.

With the swiftness and efficiency of years of practice, Luka cut off the man’s thumbs. His screams were like music, but Luka didn’t stick around to appreciate his handiwork.

He made quick work of cutting the man free, his warning left unsaid as he slung the bag over his shoulder and headed out into the brisk autumn night. Retrieving the keys from his pocket, Luka climbed in the Jeep that had seen better days, if only because it needed a good wash to clean off the layers of dirt caking the outside.

The cold air didn’t bother him as he headed into the city, toward the club in lower Manhattan that had opened just a few months ago. While it might have been Bratva property, it was mostly kept clean of the work they did because the boss’ wife handled the books and practically ran the place.

If there was one thing that Luka knew, it was that his boss would never leave this life, but he would at least make sure that none of it fell on his wife.

Climbing out of his Jeep, Luka headed toward the back entrance, entering a four-digit code on the keypad next to the door handle. After an incident a couple of years ago, the boss had decided it was better to have a code lock rather than have someone standing guard.

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