Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(92)

“Thanks so much for answering my call, old friend,” he croons. “Your dear wife gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Where is she?” I growl.

“Right here.” Belov waves his hand and the camera pans around. “Catching up with her grandfather.”

The camera lands on Semyon first. He’s in his wheelchair with his nurse standing right behind him. For the past several years, I’ve never seen one without the other. She’s the old man’s shadow. You get the feeling he’d die if she took too many steps away from his side.

In the chair next to Semyon is Willow.

She seems to be unharmed. She’s not even tied down. She’s sitting calmly next to him, if somewhat stiff and vacant-eyed.

“Willow.”

She looks off to the side, and I know she’s looking at me on the screen. “I’m sorry, Leo,” she murmurs. “I had to do it.”

Belov steps back in front of the camera, but I can still see both Willow and Semyon on either side of his monstrous head.

“I owe you many debts,” he says. “The first of course is the beautiful mole you planted by my side.”

“Did you never suspect her?” I ask. “I’m sure you didn’t. If you had, she would’ve died years ago.”

“It was clever, I must admit. Was she always yours?”

I clench my jaw tight, remembering just how far back we went. “From the very fucking beginning.”

“Then it’s a shame you didn’t get her back in one piece,” Belov says with mock sympathy. “Unfortunately, I had to play with her one last time before she left. And I play a little rough.”

Willow shivers behind him.

“You will pay for what you did to her,” I promise. “I’ll see to that myself.”

“Really?” Belov asks. “It seems a little late for threats. Because as far as I can see, I’ve already won.”

“Then you’re delusional.”

The smile slides off his face. I can see just how much Ariel’s betrayal has lit the flame of his mania. It’s a nauseating glimpse into the chasm where his humanity should be. All I see is poison.

He spins around in a circle, arms wide. “Am I imagining all of this? I don’t think so. I have your son. I have your wife. I’ve had Semyon for years, but the old man is pretty much useless now that I have Viktoria Mikhailov.”

He moves towards Semyon’s wheelchair. I know what’s about to happen. Can feel it in my bones.

But I’m not sure Willow does.

“I had to put up with this old sack of shit for years. Despite what you seem to believe, Leo, I do know how much the men value the bloodlines,” he says, sitting between Willow and Semyon. “But you were right about one thing: he stopped calling the shots a long time ago.”

Belov looks to the nurse and gives a quick nod. In a flash, she pulls out a knife.

I watch as she slits the old don’s throat with one swift slash.

Willow gasps, but before she can truly respond, Spartak yanks her out of her seat and pulls her to her feet. He spins her around so that her back is pressed to his chest. Then he walks her over to the camera.

I lean forward instinctively. I want to jump through the screen and tear his hands off at the wrists for even daring to lay a finger on my wife.

“For every mark you leave on her, I will return the favor a hundred times over,” I growl. “That’s a fucking vow, Belov.”

“If only that threat scared me, Leo,” he tuts. “But you see, I’m don now. And this is my queen. Isn’t she a beauty?”

He presses his lips into her neck as Willow trembles. Her body is shaking, but her expression is almost eerily calm.

“Don’t you worry, though,” Belov says as he resurfaces. “I don’t plan on hurting her. As a matter of fact, I plan on fucking her until she forgets all about you.”

He twists Willow’s face around so she’s forced to look right at him. Then he presses his lips to hers, and I’m forced to watch as he steals a kiss that was never meant for him.

Willow stiffens under his barbaric hold. She’s not returning the kiss, but Belov doesn’t seem to care. It’s enough for him that he’s able to gloat. This is a display of what he thinks is power.

But he doesn’t know the first thing about real power.

I intend to show him.

Belov breaks away and smiles maniacally at the screen. “Are you ready for the last act, Leo? It’s time we finished this.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He nods. “It will be so much more satisfying watching you die knowing that I’ll be fucking your wife every night. Knowing that your son will grow up calling me Otets.”

“Keep dreaming,” I tell him calmly. “When I’m done with you, endless sleep is all you’ll have left.”

He smiles.

The line goes dead.

Black clouds of anger roil through me, but I take a deep breath. I focus the rage into action. Into one thought.

This fucker is going to die today.

I head downstairs where Jax and Gaiman are rallying the troops. Men are running around, gathering their weapons and trying to get in the headspace for battle. I know I haven’t given them a normal amount of time to prepare, but it doesn’t matter.