Morozov

Chapter 7

"Come in," I said loud enough for the person on the other side to hear it. Ace came in and closed the door before sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"You really have to stop being so touchy in public," I said, rolling over to lie on my stomach, looking up at him.
"Does it make you nervous?" he challenged. "No," I said with raised eyebrows and a laugh. "But people will start to think you like me. That would be unfortunate for your reputation of the ruthless Mafia boss," I said as I rolled over to lie on my back.
My head was resting next to where he sat and I played with a lock of my blonde hair, looking at a spliss end.

"Well isn't that what they're supposed to think? That I like you?" he said, giving me another one of his challenging looks while cocking a brow.
"Right, that's what they're supposed to think" I said as my smile faded.
My life was dedicated to obligation instead of love. How pathetic.

Ace's pov
Why did she look sad? The sight for some reason made me uncomfortable, so I changed topics. I was fucking bad at cheering people up. Also, I think I knew why she was sad.
Mallory seemed like a hopeless romantic, desiring love and passion like one desires water after a marathon.

"What did Jack want from you earlier?" I asked, trying to sound as thoughtless as possible. I didn't need her to find out about the past.

"I don't know. He basically said we don't share each other's morals," she said with a furrowed brow. That's what I thought.
"Did you tell him anything?"
She shook her head no.

"Go to bed now," I demanded. "And tomorrow you won't take the bus," I said with a serious look on my face, my eyebrows raised to bring home my point. The statement somehow made her giggle.

The next morning I got up and made my way to our head office. "Archie, go train our newcomers. Cullen, Jack is planning something. I want to know what it is," I ordered as we walked through the long, dim corridors. Archie and Cullen were my best friends and they helped me with the business more than anyone else.

I stopped at cell number 634 and went in. There was a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His head was hanging heavy to the side.

"We tried everything but he just won't talk," one of my 3 workmen that were in the room, torturing him the whole night already, said.

I sighed.
"Untie him and lay him on the floor. And get Lucy," I demanded as I grabbed a metallic bucket and a bunsen burner.
"No no please no," he begged, desperate with the last piece of strength he had left but it was no use.
If he wanted to play the uncooperative one, I was glad to join in on his little game.

I ripped open his shirt, that was already pretty torn from the hours if torture he'd already suffered, when the door swung open and my workman handed me a cage.

"Hi Lucy, are you hungry?" I asked as I opened it and placed Lucy on the man's stomach with the bucket on top.
"Last chance," I warned, cocking my head with raised brows. I had the burner already pointed to the bucket when he whimpered in fear.
"I won't say anything."

"Okay then, looks like I have no other choice,"
I turned it on and started heating up the bucket.
After about 30 seconds, you could start to hear the squeaks of our rat Lucy. After about 50, she began scratching the bucket. 70 seconds in she realized that it was no use and at second 75, the torture finally began.

Some might shake their head at my methods, considering that we've reached the 21st century. But in my opinion, people back then had some very good practices as well. And not using what's already given to us seems wasteful to me.

"NOOOO FUCK!" he screamed and panicked in pain as Lucy began digging her way free.
"You can still free yourself and poor Lucy. Or you can provide her a good breakfast," I threatened but he still didn't want to talk.
"Why do you Russians have to be so persistent? Just tell me the fucking name and this will stop. It's not that fucking hard," I exclaimed shaking my head in disbelief.

What he did in response made my blood boil. He lifted his head and spit at me. I looked at him in disbelief. The audacity he had. But I also had the smallest piece of respect left for him. He was held hostage for over 24 hours, on the verge of being eaten to death by a fucking rat and he still possessed the balls to spit at the reaper leaning over him.

One of my henchmen was quick to hand me a piece of cloth with which I wiped the spit off my face, looking at him furiously.
"Now you won't be able to buy your freedom. What a waste," I said with a deadly look on my face. I tossed the cloth to the side before adjusting the burner to the highest flame.

"NO FUCK OH MY GOD NOOOO!" "The name," I spoke slow and clear, tilting my head so my one ear was pointed toward him. "Stanislav- Stanislav Ivanov," he blurted out in pain.
"Interesting. But you know, you've missed your chance," I said before I handed the burner to another one of my men.

After about five minutes, Lucy dug herself free and came out at the side of his stomach. A tear was rolling down the lifeless face on the floor and disappeared into his dark brown hair.

I took a quick look at my watch and noticed that Mallory's first break had just started. "Clean up," I demanded before going to my office to refresh a little.

I figured that after what happened at the party on Friday, I should check on her to see if everything's okay.

I pulled my T-shirt over my head and tossed it to the side. It was dripping with sweat, caused by the heat of the bunsen burner and the fury I felt even when I was in my office.
Stanislav Ivanov was my number one enemy. Of course it was him who killed two of my henchmen.

They were on their way back from a mission. Nothing special, though.
Some small gang tried to steal my money and thought I wouldn't notice. They were selling drugs for me in exchange for personal protection for them and their families and about two weeks ago, I noticed more drugs were sold than money delivered to me.
So naturally, my henchmen payed the leader a visit.

I decided I was going to get my revenge later and focus on my fiancé for now.
I really wanted to try and connect with her, considering we were supposed to spend the rest of our lives with each other.
We may have had separate bedrooms but still, we were supposed to at least come off as a couple in public.
I also wanted to give her a secure home, especially when she was just freed out of the hellhole of her family house.

After I washed my face and put on a new T-shirt, I got in the car and drove to her school.