Page 37 of Velvet Chains
“In our world, power is measured in three different currencies. First, money—cash rules everything around us. Second, connections—the who-knows-who can open any door. And third, fear—a well-placed dread can control just about anyone.” I aim a level stare at him.
“Now, cash and connections, those are solid. Tangible. But fear? That’s a fickle bitch. And right now, every word out of your mouth is making me question just how valuable your information really is.”
Sokolov swallows hard, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. “I-I promise you, Mr. Morozov. This intel is the real deal. Locations, shipment schedules, the whole nine yards. It’s enough to bring the Vasilievs to their knees.”
“Fine,” I say, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. “A million it is. But if this intel doesn’t pan out, Detective, you’ll be praying for the Vasilievs to find you before we do.”
Sokolov nods quickly, then reaches into his jacket with a shaking hand, pulling out a thick manila envelope. He tosses it on the table like it’s a live grenade.
“Now, about my payment,” he says, licking his lips nervously. “I trust you’re familiar with crypto?”
I nod, my eyes never leaving his face. “We’re familiar.”
Sokolov nods, pulling out his phone. “Good. I’ll send you my wallet address. Once the transfer is complete, the envelope is yours.”
I glance at Igor, giving him a curt nod. He pulls out his own phone, his fingers flying over the screen. A moment later, Sokolov’s phone pings with an incoming notification.
Sokolov checks the screen, his eyes widening as he sees the balance. “It’s all there,” he says, a note of relief in his voice. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Morozov, lady and gentlemen.”
I don’t bother responding, watching silently as he scurries out of the room like a rat fleeing a sinking ship.
Ksenia snatches up the envelope, tearing into it with a predator’s hunger. She scans the contents, her eyes widening with each page.
“This is it,” she breathes, a vicious smile curving her lips. “We’ve got them by the balls now.”
She slides the papers over to me, and I feel a thrill of savage anticipation as I take in the information. Warehouse locations, guard rotations, transport routes… just like he said. It’s a fucking treasure map leading straight to the heart of the Vasilievs’ operation.
Fucking cops are doing something right for once!
I look up at the others, a cold, ruthless determination settling over me like a shroud.
“Gentlemen,” I say, my voice as hard as iron. “Let’s take back what’s ours. And let’s make sure the Vasilievs never forget the day they fucked with the Morozovs.”
Chapter 16
Victor
SHE’S DREAMING.
I watch her from the shadows, perched on the edge of the bed. The dim light from the full moon outside casts a soft glow over her sleeping form, highlighting the curves of her body beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.
It’s been three weeks since I last touched her, since I last allowed myself the pleasure of her skin against mine. I’ve been giving her space, trying to respect the distance she’s put between us. But fuck, it’s been hard.
Govno!
My cock throbs with need, a constant ache that only she can soothe. I want to reach out, to run my hands over her smooth, creamy thighs, to feel her shudder and moan beneath my touch.
But I hold back, my fists clenching at my sides. She doesn’t belong in my world, in this life of blood and violence. Ksenia was right about that much, at least.
Laura jerks in her sleep, a small whimper escaping her lips. The covers have slipped down, revealing the swell of her tits, the delicate curve of her collarbone.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But it’s no use. My body is drawn to her like a moth to a flame, desperate for her warmth, her light.
This sensation’s bizarre, never hit me like this before. Am I losing it? What’s this weird feeling all about?
Tears slip from beneath her closed lids, glistening on her cheeks. “Mommy…” she whispers, her voice so soft, so broken. “I miss you, Mommy.”
My heart clenches in my chest, a pain that has nothing to do with physical desire. I reach out, my fingers trembling as I brush the tears from her face.
