Midnight Sanctuary (Bugrov Bratva #2)(3)

But you’d also find a trapdoor. And beneath that trapdoor, you’d find a staircase. At the bottom of that staircase, you’d find a room sealed with concrete thick enough to keep screams from leaking out.

And in that room, you’d see terrible things happening.

I kick the motherfucker into the shed, down the stairs, and into the concrete room. He’s shivering at the sudden drop in temperature. It doesn’t take him long to realize that there are no windows and no doors other than the one I just hurled him through.

Unfortunately for him, I’m standing between him and it.

I lean against the door frame and cross my hands over my chest. “I suggest you make the decision to answer me truthfully now. It’ll save you a world of pain later.”

The man’s eyes bulge as he scrambles on all fours to the far corner of the concrete cell. He’s scrawny, badly bearded, pale, and shifty-looking. His voice, when he speaks, matches his appearance perfectly. “Where am I?”

“You want answers? You’ll have to answer mine first. Let’s start with an easy one: what’s your name?”

His throat bobs. “Alan.”

Generic, useless, and entirely forgettable. Hm. I ask my next question in Russian, but I’m not even halfway through it before I can tell by his frown that he has no idea what the fuck I’m saying.

That one throws me for a loop. Sobakin wouldn’t hire just anyone for something of this magnitude. He’d want an insider. Someone who knows our world.

“I asked how long you’ve worked for Boris Sobakin.”

His throat bobs again, but this time, there’s an odd hitch in it. A tell, I think. “Who?”

I uncross my arms and take a slow step towards him. “I thought I warned you about lying to me.”

As soon as I move closer, Alan plasters himself to the wall like he thinks he can teleport right through it. “N-no! Please! Don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t,” I agree amicably.

He drops his hands, mostly in shock, so I take the opportunity to punch him in the gut as hard as I can. He coughs up blood, spluttering desperately as he sucks in big breaths. I retreat so he doesn’t vomit all over my shoes.

“If you’re going to lie,” I growl, “then I am, too.”

He’s still keeled over when he looks up at me warily. “F-fine,” he stammers. He sucks in another dramatic breath and spits out a little more blood before he straightens. “I know Boris.”

“I’m aware. My question was, how long have you worked for him?”

He shakes his head in pained confusion. “Not long. Few weeks, maybe. That’s it.”

“What did I just say about lying?”

“Listen, man, he stumbled across me, okay? I was just running my operation, doing small-time jobs, enough to pay my men and myself. I’m not a big-timer.”

I snort. Clearly. “But you caught Sobakin’s notice.”

“Because my men and I happened to be in there already when he showed up.”

“In where already?”

He gulps, his eyes fixed worriedly on my face. “Th-the girl’s house. The one next to yours.”

“What were you doing in there?”

Another gulp. “I was just… just looking through the place. Everyone’s gotta eat, ya know?”

“You were robbing her house?”

“My men and I go through nice neighborhoods and watch for a while. We know which houses have the dogs, which houses have security systems, which houses have old white women with more money than they can spend in their lifetime. We’d been in your neighborhood for a few days before I realized that the girl’s place was empty. No one was coming or going.”

I step forward and he presses himself hard against the wall. When he’s sure I’m not going to throw another punch, he continues. “We were in the middle of the ransack when these scary motherfuckers walk in. I thought we were dead men. Turns out—they wanna join forces.”

More like they wanted a fall guy.

“Did you meet with Boris?”

“Nah. Didn’t even know his name until recently. I only ever spoke to him over the phone. Which was fine with me. Guy was scary enough as it was.”

“What was the deal?”

“Wait and watch,” he rasps. “If one of three people appeared from behind your walls, I was to catch them, bring them to the safehouse, and keep them there.”

My jaw clenches tight but I nod for him to continue. “Who were the three people?”

“The idiot and the two girls.”

I grab him by the throat so fast that he doesn’t see it coming. He splutters hard, flecks of blood spraying my face. I’m so tempted to take his life immediately.

But I can’t afford to let my emotions get the better of me. I loosen my grip just enough so that he can breathe, but not so much that he forgets who I am or what I’m capable of.

“If you ever refer to my brother like that again, I will cut your tongue out and feed it to you. Is that understood?”

I deliver the threat with the kind of unblinking coldness that promises I will see it through. Alan’s eyes go wide as he nods quickly. Only then do I release him. He hacks up a few throaty coughs before he finally subsides into silence.

“Tell me what happened next.”