Adrian spits blood at my feet. “You think you’re so righteous. So justified in your revenge. But you’re just like me, Artyomov. Just another monster in an expensive suit.”
“I never claimed to be anything else.” I shift my weight, pressing my knee into his chest. “The name.”
“He’s high rank. Someone in your organization.” Adrian’s smile is grotesque, his teeth stained red. “Someone who’s been playing you for years.”
My mind races through possibilities. High rank. Someone I trust. The list is short, and each name on it makes my stomach turn. “Stop playing games.”
“It’s not a game.” Adrian coughs, more blood bubbling from his lips. “It’s the truth. And it’s going to destroy you when you find out.”
I press the knife harder, and he gasps. “Last chance.”
“You want a name?” Adrian’s voice is getting weaker. “Fine. But knowing won’t help you. He’s already won.”
“Who?” The word comes out as a roar.
Adrian opens his mouth to answer, but instead of words, more blood pours out.
He’s stalling, trying to buy time for something.
Or maybe he’s just enjoying watching me suffer, knowing I’m so close to the truth but can’t quite reach it.
I’ve had enough.
I spin him around to face me and my fist connects with his jaw, and I feel something crack.
He tries to curl into a ball, but I haul him up by his collar and slam him against a support pillar.
The impact echoes through the warehouse.
“Talk!” I hit him again, and again, each blow punctuated by my rage. “Give me the name!”
“He’s…” Adrian’s words are slurred now, barely intelligible. “He’s been there…all along…”
“Where? Who?” I shake him, his head lolling like a broken doll.
“So close…” Adrian’s eyes are starting to glaze over. “You’ll never…see it coming…”
I drop him and grab my knife again.
Maybe pain will loosen his tongue.
I press the blade against his hand, right where his fingers meet his palm. “I’m going to start removing parts. We’ll see how long you last.”
The knife bites into flesh, and Adrian screams. The sound is music to my ears, a symphony of suffering that still doesn’t come close to matching what Nicole endured. I twist the blade, and he screams again.
“The name!” I demand.
“Fuck…you.” Adrian gasps between screams.
I move the knife to his other hand.
Then to his arms.
Each cut is precise, calculated to cause maximum pain without killing him too quickly.
Blood pools on the concrete beneath us, spreading in a dark stain that reflects the warehouse lights.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I hear Sophia gasp and Marco tell her to look away.
