Page 83 of Deceptive Vows
“Sergei isn’t here.” I leaned forward, ignoring the protest from my ribs. “I am. And I care about only one thing—where is my wife?”
“I don’t know.”
I smiled. “Wrong answer.”
What followed was a conversation conductedin the ancient language of pain—specific, methodical, and increasingly persuasive. Pasha stood back, watchful but not interfering. Lucas and Ari observed from the shadows, their silence more unnerving than any threat. Dimitris and Lex assisted when called upon, their movements efficient and practiced.
I never raised my voice, never showed anger. There was no need. The cold precision of my methods spoke volumes, made all the more effective by the stark contrast with my own weakened physical state. It wasn’t about strength—it was about inevitability.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours in that concrete room. My broken ribs screamed with each breath, and my concussion threatened to steal my consciousness with every movement, but I channeled the pain, using it to sharpen my focus rather than dull it.
Eventually, the Wolf slumped in his chair, all pretense of resistance abandoned.
“They were supposed to kill you and take her,” he gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. “She’s valuable—Lucas Kalantzis’s sister and now your wife. Doublethe leverage.”
“Wherewould they take her?” I pressed, relentless.
“The holding facility. Where all the merchandise goes before auction.”
I struck without thought, my hand clamping around his throat. Pain exploded through my side, but it barely registered. “She. Is not. Merchandise,” I growled as I tightened my grip, my thumb pressing against his windpipe. “Where is the facility?”
His eyes locked with mine, and I knew the moment he folded. This new generation of Gray Wolf wasn’t made like the ones I was used to. I’d expected him to die before giving up any information.
He choked out an address for a location north of the city—an abandoned sanatorium on private property near the Wisconsin border. Remote, easily secured, perfect for holding captives without drawing attention.
If Sergei found out he’d betrayed them… even with the violent interrogation, he was still going to die quicker at my hands than at his Pakhan’s.
“How many guards?” Lucas stepped forward for the first time.
“Six inside, eight outside. Rotating shifts.” The Wolf’s words tumbled out in a breathless rush, slurred by his split lip. Blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth, his voice cracking under the weight of desperation. He felt the noose tightening—and he was spilling everything he knew, scrambling to loosen it.
“And inside? Layout?” I demanded.
“Main floor is processing—where they photograph them, clean them up. Basement has the cages. Ten or twelve of them.”
Cages. The word sent ice through my veins. I forced myself to continue. “How many captives?”
“Ten, including your wife. The full shipment for the auction.”
"How are the cages secured?" I leaned forward, ignoring the pain. "Keys? Electric locks?"
"Keys," he gasped, his eyes darting toward Dimitris. "Only the shift supervisor carries them. Four guards total have access, one per shift."
"And the security system?" Lucas pressed. "Cameras? Alarms?"
"Motion sensors on all the exits. Cameras in every room, monitored from the security office on the main floor. Three-manteam watching 24/7."
“Including children?” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice.
The man hesitated, his silence far louder than any confession. My vision narrowed to a pinpoint. The pain in my ribs faded into white noise—insignificant compared to the sudden, all-consuming coldness spreading through my veins. I met Dimitris’s gaze and gave a single, slow nod. He moved forward with the kind of efficiency that came from years of practice—the kind that meant the Wolf wouldn’t be screaming for much longer.
“The auction,” I continued after the Wolf stopped screaming. “When and where?” If Marco had figured out we were plotting against him, there was a good chance he’d had the location moved.
“Three days. The opera house by the river. Marco’s been setting it up for weeks.”
I glanced at Lucas. He hadn’t moved locations because he expected all of us to be dead or at least unable to interfere.
“Anything else we should know?” I stood despite the protest from my body. The room tilted violently, the concrete floor threatening to lurch up and meet me. My knees buckled slightly, but Ilocked them, forcing myself to remain upright through sheer will.
