“Your nose is broken. I can’t believe that bastard,” Dominic seethes. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens full of emotion. “Katerina, when I heard your scream… I’ve never been more terrified. I sprinted faster than I ever have. I had to get to you.”
“Oh… uh… Thank you.” I’m still not used to this vulnerability from him.
He cracks a smile as he stares into my eyes. His shine with pride.
“But I should’ve known you can take care of yourself. I mean, by the time I got here, I had to save him from you.” He scowls at the mention of Alex. “Not that he deserves saving.”
I grin at him, loving his praise. I lean forward and kiss him. It’s soft and slow, unlike any of our others. He groans and pulls me into him. When I finally pull back to catch my breath, he sighs in exasperation.
I step out of his embrace and look over his shoulder.
“What now?” I ask him.
“Let’s get him to the basement. When he wakes up, we’ll deal with him.” The dark look crosses his face again.
“Are we going to kill him?” It’s not that I have a problem with it, I’m just wondering about the protocol.
“That’s up to you, wife.” He doesn’t even hesitate in answering.
“There isn’t protocol for this?” I’m skeptical of his answer.
“Fuck the protocol! He tried tokillyou. You get to decide his fate.” Dominic doesn’t seem like the kind of person to ever stray from protocol. I’m glowing on the inside that he’s doing it for me.
He walks over and throws Alex’s unconscious body over his shoulder, and we start the trek inside.
Chapter 41
Dominic
My wife inspects the basement cells I’ve been hiding from her. I know she was oblivious to them, but she wanted to be involved. I get why. If someone tried to kill me, I’d want to torture them too. We’re more alike than I realized. Somehow that makes her even sexier to me.
“I didn’t know our basement was a torture chamber,” she muses as she inspects the table full of weapons and instruments of pain. “I guess this must be standard for criminal organizations. I used to hear screams coming from Viktor’s basement. I never went down there, but I knew what was going on.”
Her face doesn’t reveal her emotions. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but I know any comparison to her father is bad. And I didn’t miss that she called him Viktor, not any term of endearment.
Despite having the same basement as him, it infuriates me that Katerina had to grow up in a home with one. Was she scared when she heard men being tortured? Was she a young girlterrified in her own home? I vow to myself that if we ever have children, these rooms won’t be used. I won’t have our kids living in fear.
Alex moans from where he’s hanging by his arms from the ceiling. He starts to wake up, and when he realizes what state he’s in, he starts fighting against his restraints. It’s futile with the hold the chains have on him.
“You’re wasting your energy.” I warn him in an even, calm tone. I’m not feeling either of those things, but I won’t let him in on it. I may not get my hands dirty as often as Roman has to, but I know the nuances of an interrogation. Showing any emotion is a weakness they can exploit.
My wife, however, doesn’t know this.
“Listen here, you bastard. We have some questions for you, and you’re going to answer them. Fight it all you want, but we’re getting our answers.” She pauses, then a sinister grin overtakes her feature. “In fact, if you fight it, I might enjoy it even more. I’m not satisfied from the beating I gave you earlier.”
She points the knife she pulled from the table at him. Her manic demeanor placates me. I’d rather her crazy and bloodthirsty than sobbing and inconsolable. My wife’s strength is unmatched. Not even being attacked fazes her.
But Alex, the dumbass, just laughs.
“You don’t scare me. What’s the Bratva Princess going to do with a little knife?” he taunts her.
He’s so fucking stupid testing her. She has more fight in her than any of my men. He underestimates her because she’s a woman, and that’s his mistake. I guess he didn’t learn from his earlier beating.
Katerina just laughs. She throws her head back and lets out a crazed cackle. Then she flicks her wrist. Before I can track it,Alex is mewling in pain. I see the hilt of the knife sticking out of his shoulder, right under his collarbone.
I’m beyond impressed by my wife’s aim. And more than a little turned on. But she doesn’t stop there. She pulls out another knife and spins it. The control she has over the blade as it dances through her long, elegant fingers has me instantly hard. There’s something about her intensity that has me entranced.
“Alex, are you ready to answer some questions now?” Her voice no longer rings with fury, instead carries a sweet tone. It’s menacing in this context but still causes my blood to boil at the thought of her using at other times.
