Roller Skates [Yandere Mafia x Reader]

Chapter 52 - Mole

(Volcov's POV)

Thank god they are gone. Now Father and I can get down to business. I sat gingerly, pressing the ice pack against my rapidly swelling eye. Jesus, my brother could really pack a punch when he wanted to. I'd have to be more careful riling him up in the future.

Though part of me couldn't help but revel in getting under his skin – it was a game we'd played since childhood.

My father remained silent, his steely gaze fixed on the security footage as he reviewed it over and over again, scrutinizing every minute detail.

"The first one was sloppy," he said at last, his voice a low rumble. "Her head was far too full for her body. Shoddy craftsmanship."

I nodded, wincing as the movement sent a fresh jolt of pain through my face.

Sloppy was an understatement. Whoever was behind that first attempt was either new to the game or just plain incompetent.

"Yes, that we know. But this one..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "It feels far too personal. Like someone's trying to send us a message."

Father's jaw tightened, his expression growing even more severe. "Extremely personal. It feels off, like it's more than just business." His eyes bored into me, cold and assessing. "Something tells me that damn Vera should have been dealt with when we had the chance."

A muscle ticked in my cheek as I fought back the urge to snap at him. As if I hadn't argued for that very thing time and time again.

But of course, Father never listened until it was too late. His arrogance would be our undoing one day.

"Yes, but now we have to figure out who's behind this." I gestured towards the frozen image on the screen, the grotesque figure forever captured in its final, twisted form.

"Clearly not someone too smart," Father mused, his gaze flickering over the grainy footage. "I mean, look at the person they sent. And going after Sarah?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Rookie mistake."

A slow smile spread across my face as I remembered the little surprise I had waiting for him.

"Ah, but I do have something that might help shed some light on our current predicament."

Father arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What?"

"That little problem a while ago, Detective Tennison? My guess was right – someone wanted us to kill her. But I kept her alive instead." I rose to my feet, gesturing for him to follow me. "Come with me."

We made our way down the dimly lit corridor, our footsteps echoing off the damp stone walls. The basement levels of our compound were a veritable labyrinth, designed to confuse and disorient any unwanted guests. But I knew the way like the back of my hand, having spent countless hours exploring every nook and cranny as a child.

This place had been my playground, my sanctuary from Father's watchful eye. Even now, it felt like coming home.

Finally, we reached a heavy steel door set into the wall, its surface pitted and scarred from years of use. I keyed in the access code, and the door swung open with a groan of protesting hinges.

A small, windowless room lay beyond, its stark concrete walls and floor illuminated by a single, harsh light overhead. And there, huddled in the far corner, was the disheveled form of Detective Tennison herself.

Her eyes widened in fear as we entered, her body tensing like a cornered animal. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the sight – this was the woman who had dared to cross us, to stick her nose where it didn't belong. And now, she was utterly at our mercy.

Let's see how tough she is when the tables are turned.

"Well, well," Father murmured, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "It seems you were right to keep her alive after all."

I returned his smile, feeling a surge of pride at his rare words of praise. [Finally, a chance to prove my worth.] "I thought she might come in handy eventually. Shall we see what secrets she has to share?"

"What the hell do you want?" Detective Tennison snapped, her voice dripping with defiance despite the tremor of fear in her eyes.

I stepped closer, allowing the harsh overhead light to cast my features into stark relief.

"Information," I said coolly. "You know that's the only thing keeping you alive right now."

She flinched at those words, her bravado faltering for the briefest of moments. Good. Let her feel the weight of her predicament, the precariousness of her situation.

"Don't you want to be able to walk out of here alive?" my father interjected, his tone almost conversational – but I could hear the undercurrent of menace lying just beneath the surface.

Tennison's gaze flickered towards him, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. "You wouldn't let me live even if I knew something," she countered, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

A cruel smile twisted my lips.

"True," I conceded. "But don't you want to get back at that boss of yours? I mean, he's the reason you're locked in here, even though he told you not to pursue this case."

She fell silent at that, her brow furrowing as she mulled over my words. I could practically see the gears turning in her mind, weighing her options.

At last, she spoke, her voice little more than a mutter. "Even if I did tell you...what's in it for me?"

Father let out a bark of laughter, the sound devoid of any mirth. "You get to live a little longer," he said, his eyes glittering with dark amusement.

But Tennison merely shook her head, her expression hardening once more. "Not good enough. If I wanted to die, I would have killed myself the second I was caught."

An intrigued hum escaped my father's lips. "True," he mused. "So what is holding you back from that?"

For a long moment, Tennison was silent, her gaze boring into us with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Then, finally, "I want to see that whole agency burn to the ground."

A slow smile spread across my face as realization dawned. Now we were getting somewhere.

"Well," Father said, his voice a low purr. "We can certainly make that happen."

Tennison's eyes narrowed, but there was a glimmer of something else there now – interest, perhaps, or the faintest flicker of hope. "Good, then. You want to know how I knew exactly where you were?"

I leaned forward, my heart pounding with anticipation. "How?"

"Sarah was telling the truth," she said, her words measured and precise. "Her father really is after her."

Father scoffed, practically rolling his eyes. "This we know."

But Tennison wasn't finished. A sly smile curved her lips as she delivered her parting shot: "Do you know? Did you know you need to look at your maids – and mainly that assistant Y/N is always around?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication, and I felt the blood drain from my face as the full weight of her revelation hit me.

No...

it couldn't be.

Could it?

One thing was certain – we had vastly underestimated our foe. And if Tennison was right, the threat was much closer than any of us could have imagined.