Page 127 of Velvet Chains
“Pizdets,” Igor swears under his breath. “We’ll be sitting ducks if we try to approach by vehicle.”
I study the grainy satellite image, my gut twisting with dread and fury. Somewhere in that crumbling hellhole, my wife and Eli are being held.
The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. I realize I’ve bitten my cheek raw. But the pain is nothing, nichto, compared to the thought of what Laura and Eli must be going through.
Hang on, lyubov moya. I’m coming for you; I swear it on my life.
Papa’s serious gaze locks onto me and Ksenia. “Vitya, Ksenia,” he says gravely, puffing out a stream of cigar smoke. “I should’ve told you this sooner. Dimitry, that svoloch, he’d been working with Ivan for a while. I only started to suspect something was off during the dinner with Laura the other day. So I had some of our boys tail him, see what he was up to. Turns out the mudak had planted spyware all over the damn house. If I’d known it would come to this, I never would’ve left for the winery…”
Ksenia’s jaw clenches at the mention of Dimitry’s betrayal, but she stays silent. I know why—she doesn’t want to dwell on that traitorous bastard any longer than necessary.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. “Papa, there’s something else you need to know. Laura… she’s pregnant.”
The room goes deathly still, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I can feel Misha, Igor, and Ari’s eyes boring into me, their shock tangible. Papa’s eyes widen, and for a moment, I swear I see the glimmer of unshed tears.
Doc sighs heavily, placing a hand on Papa’s shoulder. “I’m going with them, Andrey,” he says firmly. “We’ll bring them back, vse budet khorosho. It’ll be alright.”
But even as he says the words, I can see the tension in his face, the grim set of his mouth. We all know the stakes, the danger we’re up against. Ivan Vasiliev is a ruthless, sadistic ubl yudok. There’s no telling what he might do to Laura and Eli.
My hands form fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood.
I’ll kill him, I vow silently. I’ll rip him apart with my bare hands if he’s touched one hair on their heads.
“We need to move fast,” I say, my voice low and harsh. “Every minute we waste is another minute they’re in that pidaras’ clutches. Ari, keep digging into that location. See if you can find any weak points, entry ways we can exploit. Misha, Igor—gear up. Full tactical, heavy weapons. We’re going in hard and fast, no mercy.”
I turn to Ksenia, my eyes locking with hers. “You’re with me, sestra. We’re going to bring our family home, whatever it takes.”
She nods, a cold fire burning in her eyes. “Konechno, brother. Ivan picked the wrong clan to fuck with. He’ll regret the day he was born by the time we’re through with him.”
“I want to come with you,” Yurisays. “I want to help rescue Eli. I’m the man of the house now; it’s my job to protect her.”
I feel a surge of pride and affection for my nephew, for his bravery and loyalty. But I also feel a stab of fear, cold and sharp in my gut.
He’s just a boy, I think desperately. He’s too young, too innocent for this world, for the things I’ll have to do…
“No, Yuri,” I say firmly, stepping back from Ksenia to squat down in front of him. “You gotta stay put, look after Deduska.” I jerk my head toward Papa, giving him a quick nod to drive the point home.
Yuri’s scowl deepens, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “But I want to help,” he insists, his voice cracking. “I want to be brave, like you and Mama.”
My heart clenches, a lump rising in my throat.
“You are brave,” I tell him, gripping his shoulders. “The bravest kid I know. But part of being brave is knowing when to stay and fight and when to protect the ones who need you most.”
I white-knuckle the steering wheel as I navigate the pothole-ridden road. “Misha, you in position?”
The tires crunch over gravel and debris as I steer the SUV down the narrow, dimly lit road. A few decrepit lamp posts flicker feebly, their light barely penetrating the oppressive darkness. The whole area reeks of decay and despair, like a fucking dumping ground for the Vasiliev clan’s sins and victims.
Static crackles in my earpiece before Misha’s hoarse voice comes through. “Locked and loaded, boss. Ready to ventilate some Vasiliev scum.”
“Good. Ksenia?”
“On route to the drop point,” she replies, cold as the Siberian winter. “Ivan’s going to regret the day he fucked with our family.”
As I speed toward the glowing red dot on the GPS, my mind races with the plan we’ve hastily put together. Ksenia and her crew are heading to the address Vasiliev provided, ready to rain hell down on that svoloch if he tries to pull any shit. But they’re just the distraction—the real action is here, with me, Misha, and Doc, racing to get to Eli and Laura before those pidarasy can hurt them any further.
“Let’s get this over and done with,” I sneer.
“Just waiting to see that mudak Ivan and burst his fucking head open,” Misha replies, his tone sharp as a razor.
