Page 64 of Shot For Mercy

Although I’m done with the torture, Emiliano seems to have one more trick up his sleeve, and he’s circling Andrey like a shark scenting blood. He looks like a predator right now, and I have to give it to the Russian, he looks completely unphased. That is, until Emiliano steps up to him with a knife.

Andrey whimpers, and Emiliano grins, saying, “I’m going to ask you something, Andrey.”

He looks defiantly up to Emiliano, raising an eyebrow. I smirk, because the fucker has some balls. Andrey nods at Em, daring him to continue.

“Do you know what happens to the fuckers who don’t give me the information I ask for?”

Andrey’s eyes don’t even widen. He doesn’t shake or piss himself. He’s stoic. Raising one eyebrow, he shakes his head.

“I cut out their tongue for their insolence.” Emiliano informs him matter-of-factly. “And then I dump their body in the river to drown.”

At this, Andrey’s eyes widen. I bet he doesn’t want to die by drowning, and I can’t fucking blame him. I’d be scared too. Drowning sounds like the worst possible way to go. If I was going to die, I’d want to go out with a bang. Quite literally. One shot between the eyes will do it, and though I don’t beg, I’d probably ask for it nicely. Andrey is doing no such thing though, even though he is trembling. If he asked for it though, I’d give it to him.

“Cole,” Emiliano says my name softly, and I go to his side. “Would you hand me the tools please?”

I nod, grabbing the tools needed to cut out Andrey’s tongue. I grab the sharpest knife I can find, and that in itself is showing him mercy. Emiliano raises an eyebrow at me when I hand it over but doesn’t say anything. He proceeds to stand right in front of Andrey, and he begins to shake at Em’s proximity.

“Hold him steady for me,” Emiliano demands, and I get behind Andrey to hold his head. “Now, Andrey. Don’t be a fucking pussy and open your mouth for me.”

Andrey shakes like a leaf now but does as he’s told. Emiliano nods with a smile on his face. He takes the tools and holds Andrey’s tongue out of his mouth, then slices it clean off with one swipe of his knife. A scream echoes in the warehouse, Andrey’s, but then he goes still. I see blood running down to his lap when I peek over his shoulder, and Emiliano and I make eye contact.

“Can I kill him now?” I ask with a sigh. “I’m getting bored.”

Emiliano nods slowly, and I pull out my gun from my hip holster. I cock it, loading it, then press it to Andrey’s temple. He lets out a sharp exhale. “I’ll make this quick, Andrey, since you so kindly did as you were told.” Emiliano shakes his head with a smirk at my words. “One last shot for mercy.”

I pull the trigger before Andrey can react, and he slumps forward. There’s a moment of silence between us as I put the gun back in its holster, and Emiliano and I make eye contact. I know this is going to be a thing now, but I can’t bring myself to care.

“A shot for mercy, huh?” Em grins. “Are you getting soft on me now?”

“Never.” I huff. “I just didn’t want to deal with him anymore.”

“Mhmm,” Em hums. “Let’s get out of here, Cole. This place smells like shit.”

Without further ado, we exit the warehouse and go back to the SUV. Now it’s only a matter of time before the Russians figure out Andrey is dead, if they don’t already suspect it. It’s been three days since he was taken, and while they haven’t come after me, I know they have to be plotting my death. Which is exactly why I don’t fight Emiliano when he tells me he wants us to go home.

I can’t believe I took pity on Andrey and shot him in the head. But honestly, after being so fucking loyal to his family, I figured he could die with honor and dignity. He may have shot my best friend, but he didn’t kill him. Not for lack of trying, but still. Andrey was a fucking nuisance. A bug I wanted to squash with my shoe, and that’s exactly what I got. I had the honor of breaking him just a little bit, and that’s enough for me. No way am I going soft. Right?

We finally pull up to the penthouse, and Luca parks in our assigned spot. Emiliano seems to be in his head tonight, and I want to make him feel better. I bet now that it’s over with Andrey, he’s worried. I can’t blame him. I have to convince him to locate Matteo—he’s in danger. We have to warn him, maybe even put him in a safe house outside of New York. Preferably on the West Coast, as far away from this city as possible until it’s over. I know none of this will end unless the Pakhan is dead—or if I am.

As we go up the elevator, a feeling of dread settles in my stomach, and I don’t know why. But that question is answered when the door opens and there stands Matteo in the living room, looking worse for wear. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a light puffer jacket, and when he turns and makes eye contact with me, my breath whooshes out as if I’ve been punched in the gut.

“Matty,” I whisper, and he closes his eyes as if he’s in pain. Emiliano stiffens beside me, but I practically run to Matteo and envelop him in a tight hug. He lets me, even though his arms hang limply down his sides. He doesn’t hug me back, and though I wish he would, I’ll take anything he’ll give me. “I’ve fucking missed you. Please tell me you’re back. Tell me you’ll give me another chance.”

Matteo shakes his head slowly, and my stomach drops. I pull away from the hug but kiss his cheek softly. He makes a pained sound in his throat, and my eyes sting with unshed tears. His aren’t fairing any better when he opens his eyes, gazing into mine, and I know he’s hurting just as badly as I am. Maybe even worse. Because while I lost him, he lost the two most important people in his life.

“Please,” I whisper.

Matty reaches out to me, brushing a tear away from my cheek, and Emiliano clears his throat. We don’t turn around though, no; we keep looking at each other. “Tell me it’s not true.”

My brows furrow.

“Tell me you didn’t kill him,” he whispers back, and my stomach flips. “Tell me there’s not a target on our heads.”

“Fuck, Matty, I can’t.”

He nods, dropping his hand from my cheek, and takes a step back. His eyes harden when he looks at his dad, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I look back at Emiliano, who’s staring at Matteo with cold eyes as well, and swallow hard. This is not going to end well. They’re both jealous. I can see it plain as day.

“I’m here, Dad,” Matteo practically spits. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

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