Russian Roulette: Family secrets [2021 version]

Ch. 68: You're my bitch now

The day had come.

Dressed in a newly tailored, impeccable suit, hair neatly pulled back into a man bun, which was a new look for him, and with his usual expressionless face, Gareth entered the interrogation room in the Mansion's basement. He looked everything he had before his stay with Vasyl.

Power radiated from him, his eyes ice-cold and calculating.

He was Gareth Tempest.

No, he was Gareth Adjenkov-Sante.

And he was severely pissed off and ready to get back at the man who had abused Mackenzie and ultimately caused her death.

The room had been modified since Cracker had brought in Vasyl, and Gareth had decided he would let everybody have a chance at their revenge. Normally, the room held a rack or chair, depending on the interrogation, a table for equipment, and nothing else.

That day it held the chair Cracker gracefully had donated to the cause, a table for Aidan's equipment, and tools requested by people. His men had set up chairs along the wall facing the chair in the middle. And no, it was not because they would leisurely sit there and enjoy the show. It was because it might take some time and not everybody had the stomach or stamina to stand all the time.

Torture was not supposed to be fun or entertainment. If they treated it as such, they would be no better than Vasyl. It was revenge, vindication, and people wanted to be there to make sure justice got served.

Mafia revenge. Mafia justice.

Normal laws and morals held no power in that basement with a man like Vasyl.

But they would not come for their enjoyment.

Though Gareth had to admit, he probably would enjoy the thought of Vasyl feeling some of the pain he had inflicted on others. Gareth knew the torture itself he would not enjoy.

He was not like Vasyl. He did not get off on the misery of others.

Gareth inspected the room, waiting for Aidan, who should arrive before the others, to set up as planned. It scared him to think about what people had thought up because some items in the room he did not have the imagination to understand why were there.

There were, as expected, shackles bolted to the walls. Lengths of rope, cuffs, and other means of restraints that Aidan had prepped and laid out. A solid, square wood block stood in the corner. A small round podium of sorts in another corner.

He hoped he had the stomach for it because it tore at him. Gareth did not like torture, he did not even like killing and half the shit mafia life forced him into accepting. Time and necessity had made him work with the hand life had dealt him. In all honesty, Gareth wanted it over with. If it was possible, he would just have shot the fucker, been done with it, and moved on.

The problem was, that he could not move on from only that. He needed to avenge Mackenzie, needed something to ease his guilt, and maybe give his mind a reason to stop torturing him by not accepting her death. He explained it to himself, justified it really, by saying that if he made sure Mackenzie's suffering somehow got balanced out by Vasyl's suffering, then he would earn some sort of absolution for his failure to protect her. And then, he might be able to accept that she was gone.

If he went to a psychiatrist, his issues would earn that person a new vacation home on a private island, with the fees paid to listen to Gareth ramble.

That was how messed up Gareth's mind was.

"Do you need a minute more? I can wait to set up the rest?" Aidan silently came into the room and stood by the door, waiting for Gareth to respond. He understood if Gareth needed time to think. Torture was hard and not without its costs to a person's mental state in the aftermath.