Chapter 9

Avgust~

T hough we had lots of empty warehouses, buildings, and cabins where we conducted our ‘interviews', only a couple had holding cells for the long term. So, since the plan was to keep Samara until she found a way to kill herself, I'd instructed Alexei to take her to the empty facility on Webber Street. It used to be an old animal testing facility that the government had shut down when the research company had gone bankrupt. As soon as that had happened, we had purchased it for our own use. So, the factory had come with its own cages and cells, and it was my most favorite place in the world. The leftover research equipment had also come in handy when questioning our enemies.

At any rate, the facility was going to be Samara Andreev's home for the foreseeable future, and if she was lucky, her mind would snap soon, allowing her to live out the rest of her days insane, yet happy.

Walking into the building, the scent of desperation hit me hard, but I was used to it. Currently, we had two people housed here, though they weren't living in the cages. They were strung up in one of the operating rooms, both men having been caught trying to steal from us. Now, while there wasn't much of them left, there was still enough to play with for a few more days, something that could keep Damir busy enough. I also planned on housing Samara next to the operating rooms, so that she could see and hear exactly what she'd created when she'd left me fifteen years ago.

Though it was hard to imagine children of the bratva going to public schools, we did. Of course, we were learning loyalty and traditions at the same time that we were learning math and history, but we'd still been required to attend school, which we'd had. While my parents could have easily afforded to send us to private school, public schools were where you learned to assess different kinds of people, cultures, and characters. The world was a melting pot of all kinds of different troubled minds, so the only way to learn how to navigate through all that mess was to put yourself right in the middle of it. Public schools prepared you for the world in a way that private schools didn't, and my parents had understood that.

Public schooling had also been what had brought Samara to me. Her parents had moved to our side of town because her mother had gotten a job as an art teacher at our school. Her father had been a security guard, and though he'd mostly worked at a bank, I'd seen him at school whenever he'd been working some overtime. Samara had been a freshman at our high school while Masha had still been in grade school, and I'd be lying if I'd said that I hadn't fallen in love with her at first sight.

Samara had walked into my second period class with her chin held high, her books hugging her chest, and she had smiled at the teacher in a way that had blown me away. She'd also kept that smile on her face as she'd found her seat, and when she'd finally put her books on her desk, that's when I'd seen the rest of her, and though I'd already been seventeen at the time with a few kills already under my belt, I'd been prepared to slaughter the entire male population at school to ensure that she'd be mine.

Her five-foot-five frame had been nothing but curves for days, and though most people would have called her chubby, all I'd seen was perfection. She'd had a mouth-watering chest, dick-hardening hips, and a face that'd been created by God himself. Her smile had also been enough to nearly drive me to my knees every time that she'd flash it. Samara had looked like the most exquisite goddess with her platinum blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and doll's face. She'd been the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen, and at the age of thirty-three, she still was.

Now, of course, with our age differences, it'd been a problem at the time. So, for two years, I'd been her friend and nothing more. However, when she had turned sixteen, I'd been eighteen, though close to turning nineteen, and that'd ended up being another problem. Nonetheless, I'd been prepared to wait for Samara for however long that it'd take, and for four fucking years, we'd straddled the line between friends and something more. Luckily for me, she had cared for me enough not to date other boys, which would have resulted in their deaths, though she hadn't known that at the time.

When Samara had finally turned eighteen, I'd still been twenty, and we had ended up spending her birthday together. I'd already spoken with her father, and though he'd known that I was a Kotov, there'd been no denying how much I'd loved his daughter, so he had given me permission to wait for her, court her, then marry her. That had led me to spending the entire night with her on her birthday, and Samara Andreev had been worth the wait. She'd bled all over me, then had begged for more, and love did something to a man that it didn't do to women. Women were capable of having many great loves in their lives, men weren't. At least, I wasn't capable of such a thing. I was created to love only once, and Samara Andreev had been that for me.

Then she'd left me.

A year into our courtship, she'd finally found out who I really was, causing her to walk away from me and never look back. Though she'd known that I was a Kotov, I'd kept the truth from her, hoping that love would tether her to me once she found out that I was more than just a Kotov; I'd been the heir to everything that my family had built. So, with tears in her eyes, she'd told me that being part of the Russian Bratva wasn't anything that she'd wanted for her life, and that if I'd truly loved her, then I'd prove it by letting her go to be happy elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to her, she had created a monster that day. Never having been in love before, I had let her go because I hadn't known what else to do. Her tears and pleas had gutted me in a way that I hadn't been prepared for, so I had ended up letting her go when I shouldn't have.

So, fifteen years later, she was back in my life after making sure to avoid her completely, lest I lose my humanity completely. That had been my only stipulation to granting her the freedom that she had begged for, and now it no longer mattered.

That was also the reason that Maksim hated her so much. As my best friend since grade school, Maksim had been there to witness the destruction that Samara had left behind, and he hadn't ever forgiven her for choosing her happiness over mine. Having never been in love himself, he hadn't understood why her happiness had been more important than mine, and he resented her for refusing to look for a compromise, though a compromise wouldn't have been possible. As much as I had loved Samara, I never would have given up my seat as Pakhan to satisfy her. Plus, by then, death would have been the only way out of the organization.

"You're making a mistake," Maksim repeated as his steps caught up with mine. "There's no way that you still don't fucking love her."

"You say that like it makes a difference," I replied.

"Look, I'm just…I saw what she did to you last time," he remarked.

I stopped to look at him. "Which you should be thanking her for. If not for what she did, I wouldn't be what I am today. I might still be Pakhan, but perhaps not the one that I am now. On the streets, they call me d'yavol thanks to her.

Now, while d'yavol could be translated into devil, fiend, Satan, etc., I considered myself all of them after what Samara had done to me. The first night after she'd left me had been the first time that I had ever torn a man apart with my bare hands, and I'd gotten such a rush from it that it'd been my favorite thing to do when the punishment had needed to fit the crime. I'd become inhuman, and it'd taken years for me to rein in the anger that I'd felt whenever I'd thought of her. Now, fifteen years later, hollow was what I felt whenever I'd think of her.

Maksim let out a heavy sigh, still wary. "As you wish, Pakhan."

Done with our conversation for now- because I knew Maksim well -we headed towards one of the operating rooms, and two kryshas were playing cards as the body of Gilbert Trenton hung from suspended chains. Now, while Vlad Tarasova and Rurik Borisov weren't two of my best, they were loyal and got off on torturing people. They were also good at it, which made them both assets to the family.

When I opened the door to the operating room, both men quickly stood up to show their respect, and I gave them each a terse nod in acknowledgement. Both Vlad and Rurik were on the night shift, so they were going to need to know that I was bringing someone new in, though they weren't going to have to babysit Samara the way that they had to babysit our other two guests.

"I am here to inform you that we will be entertaining an additional guest, though your services will not be needed," I told them. "She is not here as an enemy, so she will not require any special attention. I will be placing her in the observation cage, and that is where she will remain."

Both men nodded, then Vlad asked, "Are we to feed her?"

I shook my head. "No. Once I decide who, she'll be assigned someone that will see to her needs specifically. Your job is to handle these other two." Both men nodded again. "Very well."

"She is also not to interfere with your obligations here," Maksim added. "Do not concern yourself with whether or not she can hear what you are doing."

"Of course," Rurik automatically replied, and with that, I turned to go get the cage ready, Maksim right behind me.

When we finally reached the cage, I said, "We're taking everything out."

"We are?" Maksim asked, his surprise evident in his voice.

"Why should she be able to sleep comfortably when I haven't been allowed to in fifteen years?" I asked, making Maksim cackle like an old witch.