The Mafia and His Obsession, Part 2 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

 

Viktor

 

Blood.

The color of blood was red. So was anger. Stained and discolored—vengeance—something else that was also messily smeared with red.

They all bled the same color, a flowing river of deadly things. They had the power to destroy a life or to resurrect a soul.

Death and life.

A beating heart or a bleeding corpse.

I—Viktor Ivanshov—had been underestimated over and over again.

By Solonik and by my brother, my King. They expected me to play by their rules while they made me into a puppet of their mind games.

He came back with a gasp, and then he was choking on air. His breathing was labored, and I could see his chest rising up and down as he fought to inhale and exhale a breath. His screams were muffled by the cloth stuffed into his mouth.

He twisted his head left and right, seeking an escape, his freedom. There was none. I finally had Valentin Solonik trapped, quite similarly how he liked to cage us all. He liked to play games—mind games, dangerous bloody games. Valentin always thought he was at the top, always the winner. He was, for some time, as much as I hated to admit it. Valentin had years to plan this little ploy; he had been far ahead of Alessio and me. But we caught up very easily, piece of cake.

Valentin became cocky. That was his first mistake. He underestimated everyone else around him—second mistake. He trusted the wrong people—third mistake. He tried to divide a family, my family—that was a fatal mistake. A final blow to his own fucked-up games.

Oh, how the tables had turned. Tsk tsk.

“Welcome back.” My cold voice was low. It rung with the penalty of his death, and when our eyes met, he could see the truth in mine. His impending demise. No one was coming to save him. Not now. Not today.

Game. Fucking. Over.

He tried to speak through the cloth in his mouth, his dark eyes flaring with anger…and fear.

Fear was crippling, and fear could force you to make mistakes.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. I could see the questions in his gaze. Fine, I’d let him speak. We had some unfinished business anyway.

I nodded at Yegor, who was standing silently by my side. He walked over to where Valentin was dangling from the ceiling and removed the cloth from his mouth.

The moment he was free to speak, Valentin let out a string of curses. “You fucking bastard…”

“You have bigger balls than I expected,” I drawled.

“What do you want, Konstantin? Tell me. Power? Money? My position? You want to be Boss? What. Do. You. Want?” He was wheezing now, each word a struggle to speak.

The poison running through his veins was fucking deadly. A very small dose would have taken six hours to destroy him. I might have tripled the dose…multiple times.

Solonik had only sixty minutes before all his organs would start to collapse. It was lethal. The venomous liquid inside his body would destroy his liver first. Then his kidneys. His lungs. His intestines. The fragile organ would start to melt, breaking into tiny fissures. Valentin would remain conscious but in excruciating pain, until he’d slip into a coma and expire—or he might experience a cardiac arrest and bam.

That was…if I gave the poison a chance to finish him.

No, this job—I wanted to do it myself. With my own bare fucking hands.

I let out a harsh laugh. “I don’t want anything you can give me, Valentin. I can take what I want.”

I lounged back in my chair, giving him a blank stare as I watched his feet dangle off the ground. His arms were out-stretched above his head where I had his wrists tied to the rope hanging from the ceiling.

“I want a lot of things, Valentin…”

“Valerie,” he hissed. “She is what you want?”

Her name sounded dirty coming from his lips, and I fucking hated it. I firmly decided…the first organ I was ripping out of his body was his tongue.

“I don’t want her.” I shook my head, calmly.

His brows came together in frustration, and a single tear of sweat slid down his pasty-looking face. The poison was causing his body to overheat, I could tell. His respiration was now a struggle and his pristine white shirt was soaked with sweat.

“I don’t want her. I need her,” I clarified. “And I already took her. So she isn’t something you can give me, and she sure as hell won’t save your life. You have nothing to give me that I want.”

He was powerless. So goddamn weak.

Valentin struggled against his bounds, the grimace on his old face making me chuckle. A dark laugh escaped me, and then I couldn’t stop laughing.

“My men…they would come…”

This was the part I enjoyed the most. When my victims start thinking they had a chance or someone was coming to save them. I took great enjoyment in slashing apart their little fantasy. It almost felt like a drug to me, the high of holding someone’s life in your bare hands and watching them beg for mercy.

Like drugs…like sex…killing could be so fucking addictive. Once you tasted the power it gave you, there was no escaping its trap. It’s a unique type of adrenaline that one could become obsessed with. A high you want to chase as you watch a river of red soaking and staining the ground under your feet.

I took out the tiny packet of cigarettes from my pocket. Valentin’s gaze went to the lighter in my hand.

“Your men are too busy saving their own lives.” That much was true. I had to plan carefully. This was Valentin’s base, his domain. Everyone here were his men…his land…his rules.

There was no way I could end his life and escape unscathed. But I liked playing tricky games.

I clicked open my lighter and watched the tiny dancing flame. “Tell me something. What can you bargain for your life? You’ve cared for me so well, like a father would treat a son. Maybe we can make a deal.”

Valentin let out a shaky breath. “Why are you doing this?”

I tsked darkly. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Have you been on their side all along…” He paused, his eyes widening as he finally started to grasp reality. “No…you killed him. You killed Alessio. You fucking killed him…then why are you doing this to me?” Valentin bellowed.

“Did I?” I questioned, with fake innocence.

Satisfaction coursed through my body when I saw the confusion in his eyes. “You shot him.”

“I did.”

“I saw him bleed.”

I cocked my head to the side and placed a single cigarette between my lips before I lit the end with my lighter. I inhaled and then exhaled a puff of smoke. “Oh yes, he was bleeding. I shot him in his heart. I remember clearly. And I never miss.”

“What games are you playing, Konstantin?” he hissed under his breath.

Standing up, I pushed away from my chair and then walked over to where he was currently dangling off the ceiling. “Take a wild guess,” I muttered in a low, hard voice.

Valentin stared at me, his dark eyes glaring with utter distaste. “You can’t kill both Alessio and me. The Families will never accept you as the Pakhan.”

Solemnly, I nodded. “You are right.”

I took out my dagger, the sharp blade glistening under the chandelier light. “Then I just have to make both your deaths appear as an accident.”

When I brought the blade closer to his cheek, he flinched. I could almost smell the scent of fear coming from him. I leaned in close to his sniveling face, watching him tremble. The dagger nicked his skin, the tip of it piercing his flesh slightly. It was barely a wound, but a trickle of blood seeped from the tiny hole I made.

“I know your secrets,” I murmured as my blade sliced down his left cheek. “I wonder…what would the Agron and Gavrikov families think of you when they find out?”

“Secrets…?” he coughed.

I smiled. “More than twenty years ago, you did something very, very bad, Valentin Solonik.”

His eyes widened, and if possible, his face became paler. “You outrun fate for two decades. But it’s catching up to you now.”

He shook his head, shock making his face appear comical. “No…”

“Checkmate.”