Between Whispers and Tortures Part II

Dominic's Point Of View

Yelena's footsteps echoed behind me before I reached the door.

“Dominic,” she called, and her soft but insistent tone forced me to turn around. She approached quickly, a firm smile on her face and her hands clasped in front of her body. “I thought maybe we could have dinner together tonight, since you're so busy right now.”

I took a deep breath, irritation beginning to rise.

“I don’t know what time I’ll be back. It might be too late for dinner.”

She sighed softly, taking another step forward, her hand rising to my tie, playing with the fabric as if that would be enough to break my resistance.

“We’re engaged, Dominic. It’s good to spend time together before the wedding.

We need to get closer.“

My patience ran out. I took her hand and removed it from my tie, taking a step back. My gaze was firm as I replied, my voice laden with a sharp tone that left no room for argument.

”I have important things to take care of. Dinners are not a priority. Don't worry about closeness. The position of wife is already yours, and no one can take that away from you. We'll have a lifetime for that."

She stared at me, her eyes still shining, but now confused and perhaps hurt. I didn't care. I turned once more, crossing the hall and walking out the door. My driver was standing next to the car, already opening the door for me.

I got in without hesitation, and the car began to move. As the Volkov mansion disappeared in the rearview mirror, I mentally prepared myself to be what I was born to be.

The boss of the Russian mafia.

The dim light of the poorly lit basement flickered over the dirty concrete walls. The smell of rust and fresh blood permeated the air, thick and almost palpable. I sat in a worn leather chair, a relic of more civilized times, while Luca Degrassi, the bloodied and bound underboss of the Cosa Nostra, hung in front of me, his hands secured by heavy chains. He was here to give me answers, whether he wanted to or not.

I watched him for a moment, absorbing the tension in the air. The look he gave me was a mixture of hatred and defiance, but behind it, I saw fear. He knew this would not be a normal interrogation. Not when it came to regaining lost territory. Not when he was the man responsible for the death of Sergei, my father's right-hand man.

“Let's get this over with, Dominic,” Luca spat, his voice hoarse. “Do you think torture will change anything? I'm not going to give you anything.”

I smiled, a cold smile that didn't reach my eyes.

“Ah, Luca, you still don't get it, do you?” My voice echoed through the empty space. “This isn't about whether you're going to talk. This is about when.”

I stood up, walking slowly toward him. The sound of my footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, a slow, predatory rhythm. The chains holding him clanked as he tried to move, but he had nowhere to go. Fear was beginning to sink into his bones.

“You think you can just expand your family's territory into my space, take my business, and kill Sergei without consequences?” My voice was low, but loaded with restrained hatred. “I'm not my father, Luca. I don't forgive... I don't forget.”

Luca laughed, but his laughter sounded weak, forced. Sweat ran down his face, mixing with the blood that already stained his white shirt.

“Old Volkov... he was smarter. He knew that war between our families was suicide. But you, Dominic? You've always been a hotheaded child. Killing men just to show your power. Your father would be ashamed.”

The mention of my father hit me like a knife. I stopped, clenched my fists, and looked Luca straight in the eye.

“Don't talk about my father, Degrassi. You have no right.”

I felt the fury burning in my chest, but I let it fuel my control. I wouldn't lose focus. This man didn't deserve my anger; he deserved something much worse. I grabbed a knife from the table beside me. The blade glinted in the dim light, a sharp piece of steel forged especially for this kind of work.

The blade sliced through Luca's shirt with one swift motion, exposing his sweaty, bloodied skin.

“Now let's talk business,” I said calmly, holding the knife between my fingers, the cold metal touching his flesh. “You're going to tell me who's managing Cosa Nostra's operations in my old territories. What routes you're using to smuggle drugs. Who your contacts are within the police.”

He bit his lip, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“You're being very ambitious, Dom, so much information at once... It's not going to happen.”

I sighed, twisting the knife slightly in his skin.

“You know, Luca... every man has a breaking point. I'm willing to find out what yours is.”

The knife went down, cutting a piece of his flesh. He screamed, but said nothing.

Not yet...

Pain overwhelmed him, but Luca still had his pride. His pride, however, was fragile. I could see it in his rapid breathing, in his involuntary spasms. He wanted to resist, but every second that passed brought him closer to his own surrender.

I didn't have many reasons to keep him alive, and he knew it. The truce between the Bratva and the Cosa Nostra ended the moment they broke the rules and tried to take what was ours, killing someone important to the organization in the process... Someone important to me. "Come on, Luca. How many men did you lose to get what you wanted?

How many families are crying now because of your decisions?“ My voice was icy. I moved the blade once more, this time deeper. His scream echoed in the space. ”You stole my territories. You killed Sergei. Do you think all this will end well for you? You have a week that you can't eat right, and now with my visit, you will bleed more than your body can handle..."

I was ready to make another incision in Luca's chest when I heard footsteps on the stairs. They were firm and determined, and only someone like Pyotr would have the audacity to interrupt me in the middle of a “job.” I turned slowly, my eyes fixed on him, already knowing that it would not be something trivial.

“What's going on?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, even though my icy stare made it clear that any unnecessary interruption would have consequences.

Pyotr stopped on the last step, maintaining his firm posture, but his eyes moved briefly toward Luca, who was breathing heavily, trapped by chains. He then turned his attention back to me, holding up the cell phone in his hand.

“You have a call that needs to be answered.”

I frowned, curious. Pyotr knew the protocol: during an interrogation session, no distractions were acceptable unless absolutely necessary. I picked up the rag on the table and calmly wiped my hands, dropping the knife onto the metal with a sharp, echoing sound. With a slow movement, I walked over to Pyotr and took the phone.

I put it to my ear and answered abruptly, without ceremony.

“It's Dominic.”

The voice on the other end was thick, laden with confidence and disdain.

“Dominic Volkov... You have something that belongs to me. I want it back.”

I let out a small laugh, glancing at Luca, who was covered in cuts and sweat, trying not to show the panic that was clearly beginning to overwhelm him.

“You'll have to do more than make a phone call to get what you want,” I replied, sarcasm dancing in my voice. I knew I was dealing with Marco Ricci, the Capo of the Cosa Nostra, and negotiations with him were never simple.

On the other end of the line, Marco snorted, clearly irritated.

“I thought you'd say that. That's why I'm prepared to negotiate.”

My voice hardened.

“I have nothing to negotiate with you, Marco. I can take everything from Luca without needing your help. A little blood always reminds me how alive I am.” My hand returned to the knife on the table, my fingers caressing the wooden handle.

The silence on the other end of the line was almost palpable, and for a brief second, I considered the possibility that Marco was bluffing. But then his soft voice returned.

“That's where you're wrong, Dominic. I thought you knew me better than that. I wouldn't call you if I didn't have something valuable to offer you.”

I was silent, the words hanging in the air. What could Marco have that would interest me? My mind raced, running through possibilities. My thoughts involuntarily traveled to my mother and Yulia... The idea of something happening to them made my stomach tighten, but I kept my voice steady.

“What do you have that's so valuable that I would trade for a worm full of information like Luca?”

On the other end, Marco was silent for a second. Then, with an almost disturbing calmness, he uttered the words that froze the air around me.

“We have your son, Dominic. Maybe that will interest you enough.”