Page 84 of Of Oaths and Secrets

“You know your kid is going to be one lucky little bastard,” Paolo says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes, I know. Nora will be an amazing mother.”

Paolo snorts. “Who cares about that? They’ll have me as their godfather. That’s like being blessed.”

I roll my eyes but chuckle, letting his absurd confidence lighten the weight of what lies ahead today.

“I’m still surprised Alexei kept his word,” Paolo remarks as we head toward the warehouse, where three Russians are waiting—for me, specifically, to make them talk.

“I knew he would. Alexei’s the most levelheaded pakhan I know,” I reply. “He understands the price of harsh decisions. If the rumors are true, he lost his wife and child to them.” I pause, glancing over at Paolo. “Besides, he needs to snuff out traitors almost as much as we do.”

“Yes, if they actually talk,” Paolo mutters, raising an eyebrow.

I can’t help but laugh, a dark smile spreading across my face. “Oh, they’ll talk. They always do.”

As we pull up to the warehouse, the low hum of machinery and the echo of dripping water set a grim backdrop for what's about to unfold. Inside, two Russians are chained to metal chairs, eyes blazing with defiance despite the bruises already forming on their faces. Their posturing, though, only fuels my anticipation.

Paolo hands me a pair of pliers, his smirk a silent promise of what’s to come. I start with the first man, gripping his hand and trapping one of his fingers between the metal jaws.

“You think Alexei will stand for this?” he snarls, spitting on the ground.

I twist the pliers without warning, shattering the bone with a sickening crunch. He gasps, the color draining from his face as he grits his teeth to keep from screaming.

“Oh, he’ll stand for it,” I reply, tightening my grip on the tool and moving to the next finger, pausing just to let him feel the anticipation. “Alexei’s a man of practicality. And he’s practical enough to give up deadweight like you.”

“Lies,” the second man hisses. “You’ll regret this. Alexei will bring war.”

I turn, raising an eyebrow at him, amused by his courage. “Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “But not for you.”

The defiance dims as I slide a knife from my belt, tracing its tip along the second man’s forearm, letting him feel the sharpness graze his skin. His breath hitches.

Without warning, I drive the blade into the stomach area just below the ribs. He screams, and I laugh; I know the pain must be excruciating due to the nerve density in the area. It’s a sensitive spot with many organs, which will lead to slow bleeding and gastric acid leaking, increasing the agony. It’s one of my favorite spots. Blood oozes from the wound, pooling on his shirt as he writhes.

I lean close to his ear. “Who gave you up? Tell me.”

He stays silent, jaw clenched, so I pull the blade free and stab again, in the kidney this time, twisting it harder. His mouth opens in a soundless scream, his head lolling as waves of agony overtake him.

The first man’s bravado shatters, terror flooding his eyes as he begins to babble. "It’s… it’s Sergio!" he gasps, the words tumbling out in a desperate pant. "He’s the one who told us about all the deliveries."

I leave the knife lodged in his partner’s side, the man’s life draining with every passing second, and turn to grab the pliers.Gripping the first man’s thumb, I squeeze until the joint snaps with a sickening pop. "Sergio? He’s dead. Try again."

The man gasps, his voice barely coherent as he struggles through the pain. "It’s his wife—Sofia. She’s… the one feeding us information."

I freeze, the name stopping me cold. Sofia? It sounds absurd—she has no access to sensitive information—but there’s a nagging feeling I can’t shake. I glance at Paolo, whose skeptical frown mirrors my own disbelief.

“Do you think it’s smart to lie to me right now?” I murmur, pulling the knife free from his dying partner’s body, the blade slick with blood. “Because one way or another, you’ll die. But how it happens… that’s up to you.” I cast a glance at the man next to him, who’s choking on his own blood, gurgling as he fights for his last breath.

The man trembles, his face pale, panic spilling from his wide eyes. “I swear! Sofia’s feeding Yuri all the information. She’s the whore sucking his cock.”

“Who’s Yuri?” I ask, pressing the knife on his jugular.

His eyes widen as he realizes he’s said too much, and, in a sharp movement, he lunges forward, pressing his throat into the knife, ending his own life before I can react.

“Fuck!” I roar, yanking the knife free as a stream of blood spills from the fresh wound. Frustration boils inside me as I glance down at the two dead Russians. This mess has dragged on longer than any problem I’ve ever had to fix, and though the raids on our shipments have lessened, they’re still happening. Unacceptable.

Paolo steps up beside me, his expression grim. “Do you think he was telling the truth? About Sofia?”

I grit my teeth. “Maybe. But I don’t see how. We never discuss business in front of women.” Except Nora. But that’s different. “Still, I’ll need to confront her. If she’s close to aRussian and leaking intel, she’s getting them from a man in the famiglia, and we need to shut this down fast.”

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