Page 120 of Velvet Chains
I hold up a hand, silencing Misha and Ari’s questioning looks. “Who the fuck are you?”
There’s a pause and then that sinister laugh again. “I’m quite disappointed that you don’t remember my voice, bratishka.”
The blood drains from my face, my jaw clenching so hard I feel my teeth grind. Ivan Vasiliev. The suka is always one step ahead.
“I’m not your fucking brother, Ivan,” I spit, my free hand curling into a fist. “What do you want?”
“Oh, straight to business. I like that about you, Vitya.” His use of my nickname makes my skin crawl. “It’s simple, really. I have something you want. Two somethings, actually.”
My blood runs cold, my grip on the phone tightening until my knuckles turn white.
“Where are they?” I demand, my voice low and dangerous. “Where’s Eli? Where’s my wife?”
“Tsk, tsk. So impatient.” I can hear the smirk in his voice, the sadistic pleasure he’s taking in this. “They’re safe, for now. But that can change very quickly, depending on how this conversation goes.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rage and terror battling in my gut.
Think, mudak. Don’t let him rattle you.
“What do you want, Ivan?” I ask again, my tone flat and controlled.
“Ah, now we get to the heart of it.” There’s a rustle, a muffled command. “Bring them in.”
I hear a door open, footsteps. And then…
“My mama and Dyadya are going to come for me!” Eli’s voice, high and defiant. “They’re going to kick your butt!”
Despite the situation, I feel a flicker of pride.
That’s my girl. Strong, like her mother.
“Eli, are you okay?” I hear Laura ask, her voice shaking but fierce. “Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay, Tetya Laura,” Eli says, sounding so brave, so much older than her eight years. “Don’t be scared.”
“Let us go!” Laura suddenly shouts, her voice rising. “Let us go now, you bastards!”
Fuck.
I close my eyes, my chest constricting.
This can’t be happening. It can’t.
“Ah, there she is,” Ivan purrs, his voice oily and amused. “Your feisty little koshechka. I can see why you like her, Vitya. She’s got spirit.”
“If you lay a fucking finger on either of them, I’ll rip your heart out through your throat,” I snarl, my vision hazing red. “I’ll make you beg for death before I’m done.”
Ivan just laughs, the sound grating and cruel. “Such vivid threats. But you’re not really in a position to be making them, are you?”
I’m breathing hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. He’s right, the smug suka. He’s holding all the cards.
For now.
“What do you want?” I ask again, biting off each word. “The ledger? The money? The fucking shipment? Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Oh, Vitya. So naive.” His voice hardens, all traces of amusement gone. “You think this is about business? About profit margins and lost revenue?”
He scoffs, the sound harsh and mocking. “No, bratishka. This is about power. About respect. About taking back what’s rightfully mine.”
