The three men shared another look before Mikhail refocused his attention on me.
“A few of my other men have recently…disappeared. The other three in the photos here.” He gestured toward the images. “Am I to assume they met a similar end?”
“Victor sent them to retrieve his wife. I made sure they couldn’t.”
Mikhail nodded, his expression giving nothing away as he paced the length of the room, each strike of his boots against the concrete floor increasing my nerves.
I’d been in my fair share of stressful and dangerous situations, especially during my military days.
But this was one of the scariest situations I’d ever been in.
Probably because it was the first time I felt like I had something to live for. I didn’t have that when I joined the military. Hell, I didn’t even feel like I had that a few months ago.
But with Ariana, now I did.
I just prayed I hadn’t made a colossal mistake in doing this.
“One of the first things my father taught me about this life,” Mikhail began finally, “about running this organization, is the importance of blood for blood.”
“Blood for blood?” I repeated.
He nodded. “Similar to the notion of an eye for an eye, I suppose. You make one of my men bleed, I make you bleed.” He stepped closer, leaning down, his face less than an inch from mine. “You kill one of my men…”
“You kill me,” I finished around a hard swallow.
“Exactly.” He straightened, walking toward a long metal table set against the far wall.
Knives hung in neat rows above it. Hunting blades. Skinning knives. One curved like a talon. He selected a smaller one and pressed the blade to his thumb. A bead of red immediately appeared.
“So tell me, Mr. Fontaine…” He returned to me, his footsteps measured. “Why should I spare your life?”
“Because I just confirmed what I think you sensed from the second you learned your father had been killed. Maybe even before.”
“And what is it you hope to get out of this?”
“It’s like I said. I want to find my daughter. I have proof Victor was involved in some sort of human trafficking operation. A doctor confessed to sterilizing over a hundred women on Victor’s orders. All of whom had applied for jobs with Kane Hotel Group but weren’t hired. Still, he had access to their personal information. Where they lived. Family background. I’m sure you already know this, though. You admitted you were aware of an arrangement your father had with Victor. An arrangement it appears your uncle has continued.”
“You expect me to believe my uncle disobeyed my orders and betrayed me just because he was seen with Victor Kane outside an art museum?”
“He betrayed your father long before he betrayed you,” I reminded him as a loud chime cut through.
Scar removed his phone from his pocket, checking the screen. He stepped toward Mikhail, speaking in Russian, low and fast.
I didn’t understand what they were saying, but I sensed it wasn’t good news.
Mikhail stared into space for a protracted moment, his expression hardening, fingers flexing around the knife handle.
Then he slowly walked back toward me.
Too slowly.
For one excruciatingly long second, I wondered if this was it.
If this was how I’d die.
Based on the murderous look on Mikhail’s face, it probably was.
But instead of lifting the blade and slashing my throat or plunging it into my chest, his fist crashed into my jaw. The chair tipped backward, metal scraping against concrete as I slammed onto the floor.
