Chapter Five

739 23 0
                                    

"HOW MANY FUCKING GIRLS?" I GRITTED my teeth as Marat opened the container

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

"HOW MANY FUCKING GIRLS?" I GRITTED my teeth as Marat opened the container. I wasn't fucking happy about it! I swear to fuck, I would kill Fyodor myself, but Yelena is against it. You'd think this woman is oblivious to my line of work, but she pretends I'm a good son. I'm no fucking good man either.

It was ten o'clock in the fucking night, and I so desperately needed to fuck this anger out of my system. It's been weeks because Fyodor is like a fucking mosquito in my ear. I have reverted to stroking my cock every night. That was the only option since no whore was allowed at my house.

Marat came out of the container with a paper in his hand. This fucking mouth of a man managed to rile me up tonight. Fyodor thinks he raised a foolish son because I know Marat was here to play camera. I'm waiting for the go to kill one of these assholes. "Twelve, sir. Two five-year-olds." My gun felt heavy in my suit jacket. I wanted to use it! "Five eighteen-year-olds, three twenty-two-year-olds and one twenty-five-year-old." He took a puff of smoke and blew it in my face.

I blinked, astonished and taken aback by Marat's disrespect. Before he could fathom his mistake, I had the 5'4 man in the air by the throat. His feet kicked, searching for the ground, but it was fruitless. He should have known not to blow smoke in my fucking face.

His cigarette fell, and his eyes clouded as I dug into his throat with my fingers. I burned with vengeance, anger and resentment as I watched my victim's face go red, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Blood trickled down my forearm, and I finally sent Marat's corpse ten feet away.

"I have said it once and will tell it again." I faced the men my father sent on this mission. Only two were mine-Boris Vasiliev and Leonid Medvedev. "Let no fucking man disrespect me." The other three men nodded frantically. I didn't know their fucking names. I could see one was fourteen years old. Boris, my senior guard, tossed me a hand towel, and I cleaned Marat's blood off my hands. "You!" I pointed at the wannabe gangster. "What's your name?" He swallowed, and I fucking heard that shit.

"Mikhail Oslov." He stood tall but failed miserably at his confidence.

"Get in the container, Oslov." His eyes widened, but he complied with my order. That was why I didn't fucking want kids working for me. They would get themselves, or even you, killed with their recklessness. I don't know where Fyodor picked this one up. "The rest of you, clean that shit up." I pointed at Marat's dead body. I picked up the paper Marat was holding moments ago. "Boris and Leonid, guard the entrance. I don't want anybody to disturb me."

"Yes, Boss." They spoke in unison. I entered the container to the horrific sight of naked girls. I didn't want to see that shit. I looked at the ethnicity of these girls. Asian, American, African and Mexican. I looked at the names and called the girls in order.

Some were trembling, the children were fucking crying, and there was little in my control right now. I looked at Mikhail, who ogled the women's body with hungry eyes. My jaw clenched as I strode to him, "Keep your fucking eyes up here." I hit him upside the head. I gazed down at him with fury, and he crouched from our twelve-inch difference. "Get the van heated. I don't want these girls catching a cold."

Shattered HeartsWhere stories live. Discover now