Shattered Crown

CHAPTER FOUR

MAXIM

Has the motherfucker opened his mouth yet?”
Yuri, standing sentry by the door to our interrogation room, stares at me
dumbly, about to take a bite of a sandwich. When he registers my presence,
he lowers the sandwich and stands. “Not yet, boss. Roman is still working
on him.”

I toss my bow tie and cufflinks at the kid and roll up my sleeves.
Yuri’s eyebrows press together. “Isn’t it your wedding … like, now?”

“Just came from the reception.”

“Uhh … congratulations?”

I nod, although I’m not sure what there is to congratulate me on. I broke
a promise I made to myself long ago to never marry again. Not when the
first time brought a betrayal so deep it tore my world apart.
I push past the soldier into the barren room.

Roman, one of my two right-hand men, turns as I enter and fixes me
with a questioning stare—the question being, What the fuck are you doing
here on your wedding night?
My unspoken response is simple. Don't fucking worry about it.
Most men would be taking advantage of their bride, especially one as
gorgeous as Kira. Almond-shaped hazel eyes flecked with green and gold,
shoulder-length wavy blonde hair, and curves that could drive a man to
madness. But as hard as she makes my dick, she’s a means to an end and
nothing more.

I approach the man tied to a chair in the center of the room and punch
him square in the jaw. The violence soothes the restless energy that’s flowed
under my skin since Kira walked down the aisle towards me, looking
forlorn and fierce like a wild storm dressed in white.

When I abducted Alyona, Kira was collateral damage because she was
hiding out with my daughter. I'd heard of Kira by reputation only, but I had
no business with her. My focus was entirely on bringing Alyona into my
world, but I misjudged her. Because Alyona doesn’t care about privilege
and power. What she wants is a normal life with the man she loves—Leonid
Kozlov. Even though I was prepared to force her hand, it was clear she
would never accept her place in my world. That she would come to hate me
more than she already did, and that hate would poison her soul. I’d already
lost one child, my little boy, Ilya —the one bright star in my world. I refused
to lose another.

This union has its purpose, and it's to keep the world focused on the
trivial and away from the war brewing with the Black Company.

As much as I’m a legitimate businessman with investments in tech and
real estate, I'm also involved in fraud: art, finance, and now luxury wine—a
market dominated by the Black Company Triad … until now. The man tied
to the chair in front of me is proof that they don’t welcome the competition.

Too bad for them because I have no intention of backing down.
My prisoner's cries bring me back to the present. His blood and spittle
cover my white dress shirt, and the smell of copper and dirt filters through
the air.

Henri Blanchet looks like he’s been to hell and back. He’s a European
wine expert that we paid a stupid amount of money to, to help us craft highend counterfeit wines. But recently, my hackers figured out that he was
double-crossing us. Taking our paycheck and then spilling our secrets to the
Black Company. Which is why he’s tied to the chair in front of me. Roman
worked him over but kept him alive until I could join.

“Let’s get this fucker talking,” I spit.
Roman walks behind Blanchet and uses a blade to nip the skin of his
neck, watching blood drip over his hands. The man groans, fear and hate
warring in his expression.

I grab Blanchet by the hair, jerking his head back, forcing him to meet
my gaze. "Talk now, and I might make your death quick." I hoist a drill into
view, flicking it on long enough for him to catch my drift. Blanchet's eyes
widen in a silent, horrified plea.
His lips tremble and he starts spilling everything, the words tumbling
out in a frantic rush, proving a universal truth—fear is a powerful
motivator.