Keir drives his fist into the man’s ribs. The crack echoes through the room.
The he groans but doesn’t speak.
Not yet.
Keir grabs a knife and slides it under one of the man’s fingernails.
The Russian grits his teeth. Sweat beads along his forehead.
Kaz crosses his arms. “We know your people have been trafficking women through Vegas. Bratva’s been real busy taking girls from different states, using major cities as hubs before shipping them off. We want names.”
The Russian exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Keir rips the knife upward. The Russian howls, his body jerking violently.
I grin. “Now, that’s music to my ears.”
Kaz steps forward. “Who’s running the flesh trade?”
The Russian pants, blood dripping onto the floor. He hesitates.
Keir goes for another fingernail.
“Wait!” the Russian chokes out. “It’s… Mikhailov. He’s handling shipments through the docks.”
Keir eases up, Mikhailov was the new enforcer after the old one killed the pakhan and took over.
Selene, who’s been quiet this whole time, finally speaks.
“And my father?”
The Russian lifts his gaze to her, eyes narrowing. He’s weighing his options, debating whether he should push her.
Bad fucking idea.
She steps forward, her voice dark and taunting. “You had no problem dealing death. Don’t think for a second, I won’t do the same.”
I stifle a groan at how sexy and dominating her voice sounds.
The Russian chuckles darkly. “You don’t have the stomach for this, little girl.”
Selene yanks the knife from Keir’s hand. In one swift motion, she buries it in the bastard’s thigh and twists.
He screams.
She leans in, voice low. “Who killed my father?”
Blood pools beneath him.
His breathing shudders.
Then, finally—
“Barbra.”
Selene’s grip tightens around the knife. “With what?”
He wheezes. “Aconitine… slow poisoning… months.”
