Page 118 of Velvet Chains
This… this a BDSM brothel house?
As he carries me andwalks down the shadowed hallway, the scent of leather and sweat fills my nostrils. Through the thick, ornate doors, I can hear moans and cries accompanied by the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
In one of the rooms, the girls, scantily clad in lingerie, are lined up like cattle against the damp walls, their eyes wide with fear as they await their fate. A leering figure with a twisted smile drags one girl to a table, her body trembling as she is offered up to another man sitting there, his greedy gaze devouring her form. In a single swift motion, her dress is ripped away, exposing her helpless body to the hungry eyes of the depraved onlookers. She screams and moans as multiple hands roam over her flesh, violating her.
My eyes sting with tears, fear making them spill over.
Help me. Jesus.
Thud, Thud.
“I got the girl,” my captor announces as he knocks on the door.
The first thing I see in the room as the door closes are more men standing by the doorway. A safe’s cracked open in the corner, white bags of powder and stacks of… Gold and cash.
Boxes of weapons stacked up together.
Oh. My. God.
“Hello, Laura. Sit.” I hear a rough, deep voice.
Chapter 47
Victor
I SQUINT at the grainy surveillance footage, trying to make out any familiar faces in the sea of scumbags and lowlifes. Misha, Igor, and Ari have been staking out this shithole of a warehouse, watching Vasiliev’s men coming and going like rats in a maze.
“Anyone spot that mudak Ivan Vasiliev yet?” I growl, my patience wearing thinner by the second.
Misha shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “Nah, boss. Fucker’s been MIA for a while now.”
I curse under my breath, my fist clenching around the half-empty cup of coffee in my hand. The bitter liquid’s gone cold, but I couldn’t give a shit. All I care about is getting my hands on Ivan Vasiliev and making him pay for the stunt he tried to pull.
“According to Dave, the prick’s in Thailand,” Ari chimes in, his lip curling in disgust. “Probably picking up a new batch of girls for his fucked-up little sex empire.”
I feel my blood boil at the thought.Ivan Vasiliev Isn’t just a thief and a liar, he’s a goddamn monster. The kind of sick bastard who gets off on destroying innocent lives for profit.
“Suka,” I spit, slamming my mug down on the table. “He’s been slippery as an eel these past few years. Ever since he started delegating to his underbosses, the rat’s barely shown his face.”
Misha leans forward, his brow furrowed. “That’s the thing, boss. The ledger we snagged? It shows just how deep his connections go. He’s got cops, politicians, even fucking judges in his pocket.”
I snort, shaking my head. “No shocker that Detective Sokolov’s riding with us. He wants Vasiliev gone—thinks he’s got the city by the balls, and now he’s just a damn liability.”
Ari nods, his eyes hard. “And that’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s not just a lowlife pimp; he’s a puppet master. Pulling the strings from the shadows.”
Oh, he’s going to regret the day he was born.
I turn to Misha, my eyes hard. “The exchange goes down tonight. We give them the ledger, they give us our goods and the hundred mil. Simple as that.”
Misha nods, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the wariness in his eyes. He knows as well as I do that nothing in this business is ever simple.
“What if they try to fuck us over?” he asks, voicing the question that’s been gnawing at all of us.
I smile, but there’s no humor in it. “Then we unleash hell.”
I pull out my phone, hurriedly sending a message to Ksenia. She’s supposed to be here, working on a backup plan in case Vasiliev and his crew try anything funny.
She’s six hours late—what the hell?
