Glitter & Gold - A Yuri On Ice Mafia AU

Aim, Pull the Trigger, Feel the Pain Getting Bigger

Viktor tilted his head to the side as he pretended to weigh his options. He absentmindedly twirled his favorite Y arygin pistol around his finger as he leaned back on his mahogany desk. It was a beautiful gun, custom-made in gold, and he admired it for a second, watching it spin before he caught it in the palm of his hand in a well-practiced move.

" There are a few options here ," he explained. He didn't bother to talk in English, but instead, he talked in his native Russian, he knew it intimidated his guests as they couldn't understand what he was saying. Of course, Viktor was right, he could smell the fear from across the room, from where the bloody and bruised beta was tied to one of his antique chairs, steadily dripping blood into his cheap clothes from his broken nose. The fear of what he didn't understand made him sob pathetically. The beta looked desperately around the room at Viktor's men, but as instructed, the four of them remained silent and stared straight ahead, arms crossed, and guns visible in holsters on their hips.

The scene was a familiar one, Viktor hated to bring business to the hotel but it was one of the reasons he had built it in the first place. As the Pakhan of the Bratva, he ensured discretion and safety to his numbers. It was quiet with no distractions and more importantly, it was completely private. Viktor could get everything done that he needed without drawing attention to himself or the happenings within his business, which was especially important when they were not at home in Russia.

" I can make it easy or I can make it hard. Either way, I have all night, " he continued. He feigned disinterest and sighed, resting his gun on the table and then inspected his perfect fingernails.

"My boss is very interested in what you know." It was Yuri Plisetsky, or Yura as he was affectionately referred to, the only omega in the room and Viktor's second in command, who dared enough to speak; his accent sounded thick as he deliberately spoke in blocky English. He glanced at Viktor and the alpha nodded discreetly, giving him permission to further translate for their guest.

"Please, I don't know anything. I don't know!" the beta begged.

Yura stepped forward slowly, his heavy boots echoing on the wooden floor. He pulled his switchblade from his belt, a present from Viktor , and leaned in close to the man. He ran the sharp blade softly down the length of his face, taunting him.

Viktor smelled his fear spike, but he could also smell something else that was hiding under the surface. Viktor's strong, unique sense of smell was somewhat a curse, but in situations like this, it was the difference between successfully finding what he needed, and failing. For Viktor, failure was not an option.

Yura looked towards Viktor again, and the Pakhan maintained eye contact with him. Silently, they exchanged words.

"We can do this easily, or we can do it the hard way," Yura continued. "But honestly, I would cooperate. My boss is not a nice man to cross and he is very busy."

"Tell him, please, I don't know anything. Please, I beg you." The man dissolved into a fresh fit of tears as he strained, trying to move in his tight confines but not being able to move even an inch. Viktor rolled his eyes.

"Silence," Viktor demanded, and Yura flicked the blade against the man's neck, digging it in deep enough to quieten him, but not enough to draw blood. The beta whimpered but he dared not speak in fear of the blade slitting his throat. "I have the intel that you know the whereabouts of one of JJ's clubs... " he said, switching to English.

"I don't know who that is," the stranger sobbed, and Viktor clearly could hear the lie as well as smell it.

Viktor sighed. "I am very unhappy," he explained. "You see, I recently lost a lot of business. Magically, my whores go out to work and they do not return... they disappear into thin air. By coincidence, JJ has suddenly been sighted here, in Detroit, an area that has been covered by my family for over two generations." Viktor paused and stood, he collected his gun from the desk. He made eye contact with the man for the first time. "Their families are worried and that worries me. I do not like it when they are unhappy," he growled, leaning in close. "Do you have a family?" he asked innocently and then leaned back, glaring down at him.