47. Zane

Chapter forty-seven

Zane

M y car's tyres crunch over the gravel as we roll to an abrupt stop outside the dilapidated warehouse. Killing the engine, causes the silence to feel heavy, like a prelude to a storm. Lenny is already here, his hulking silhouette framed against the flickering streetlight. Stepping from my car, my boots sinking slightly into the soft earth, my heart pounding with a grim rhythm.

"Let's make this quick," I mutter, glancing over as Marcus pops the boot with a click that echoes too loudly in the quiet night.

Desmond is a crumpled figure inside, his expensive suit now creased and stained. The gag in his mouth muffles his protests as we haul him out, his legs buckling beneath him. Lenny's grip is iron around Desmond's arm, his face expressionless, the routine all too familiar. We had to waste time binding him, but Marcus and Lenny took care of that while I checked in with Jasmine.

The warehouse looms before us, its gaping door ready to swallow us whole. We drag Desmond past the threshold, his shoes leaving scuff marks on the concrete floor. The air inside is musty, tinged with the scent of old metal and fear.

Gavriil steps forward and greets us with his Russian words. Nico and Sergey let out a laugh but for everyone else, his words remain a mystery.

"Ah, he say two men in day one," Nico explains.

"He said two men in one day." Sergey corrects the foreign youth.

Sergey gives a hearty laugh, his excitement barely contained. He wipes his hands on a rag, leaving a smudge of grease on his cheek that he doesn't seem to notice. His grin stretches wide when his eyes land on the squirming bundle we present.

"Why are you so happy?"

"I've just picked up another body."

"Mr boss man is shot and-"

"Knox?" I interrupt the annoying teen. "Knox has been shot?"

"Yes," Nico nods. "Sergey is taking parts of the insides for the cellar."

"Organs for selling," Sergey corrects him. "Honestly boy, I'd be happy to give you lessons."

"You can come back to that. I may have more business for you." I draw their attention back to me.

Sergey loses interest in Nico instantly. Nico mouths his thanks and backs away.

"Ah, nothing quite like the real deal!" Sergey exclaims, clapping his hands together. "Live organs, still safe and snug where they belong."

There is a gleam in his eye, predatory and eager, as he circles around Desmond like a shark scenting blood. I can almost see the pound signs flashing in Sergey's gaze, his mind calculating the worth of the man before him. To Sergey, Desmond isn't a person; he is inventory, a walking treasure trove of parts to be bartered and sold.

I shift uncomfortably, the scene unfolding before me distasteful yet necessary. It is business, after all, the kind that keeps you up at night with the weight of what you've become. For now, I let the cold fa?ade slip over my features, mirroring Marcus and Lenny's dispassion.

"Everything's in order, then?" I ask, my voice detached.

"Perfectly," Sergey replies, not taking his eyes off Desmond. "You've done well. Very well indeed."

Desmond murmurs frantically, and I humour him by taking out the gag.

"You can't do this to me." Desmond's back hits the cold, unforgiving concrete with a thud that resonates through the cavernous warehouse. He grunts, his eyes wide with fear as he tries to squirm away, but Marcus's firm grip on his collar is unyielding. Lenny looms over him to ensure escape is impossible.

"Your kidneys," Sergey begins, crouching down so that his face is level with Desmond's. "They're in high demand, you know?" His fingers trace an invisible line along Desmond's side, making the man flinch. "Your liver, oh, it regenerates! Science is truly miraculous." There is a twisted reverence in his tone as if he were discussing a sacred rite rather than the dismemberment of a living being.

"Please," Desmond gasps out, sweat beading on his brow. "I pay the Thayers for protection. This—this isn't right!"

"Business has changed," I interject, my voice steady despite the sour twist in my gut. "Your payments brought silence, not sanctuary."

Sergey chuckles, dismissing the plea with a wave of his hand. "Pain, my dear Desmond, is quite a subjective thing. I assure you, it will hurt considerably less if you don't squirm."

"You can't do this," Desmond repeats, desperation staining his words. "We had a deal."

"Deals change," I say, the edges of my conscience fraying. "That's the nature of our world."

"No, that isn't how it works." Desmond screams, fighting against my sons.

"Go on then. What did you do that was so terrible?" Sergey asks.

"I shook a child and fell in love with a woman."

"You hurt my grandson. He is unconscious," I snap. "You hurt the grandson of the family. You hurt the son of the family."

"Ooh, you hurt a child of the family." Sergey flicks Desmond's forehead. "So you hurt the family. I think I might take the kidneys out of this one alive."

"The more pain, the better," I echo with a smirk, relishing in the moment as Desmond's eyes widen in terror. It is almost too easy to parrot Alex's brazen philosophy back at the doomed man before me.

"You see, the only constant is that there are no constants—not in our line of work," Sergey informs the doomed man.

Desmond's face contorts, the words hitting him like physical blows, stripping away the last shreds of hope he clings to. It is a cruel kind of poetry, watching the realisation dawn upon him that his fate is sealed.

"Please," he whispers, a futile plea that hangs heavy in the air.

Any satisfaction I might have felt in this moment paled in comparison to the thought of home—of Jasmine. Her laughter is a melody that drowns out the cacophony of my misdeeds, her smile a balm to the wounds I inflict upon my own soul.

"Finish up here without me," I order abruptly, turning my back on the scene. Marcus and Lenny exchange a glance but know better than to question me.

"Where are you going?" Marcus calls out, but the question is rhetorical, he wants to get back to Alex as much as I do.

"Home," I reply, not bothering to look back. "I've got someone waiting."

"Me too." Marcus abandons Desmond in Sergey's capable hands and follows behind me.

The heavy door of the warehouse closes behind us with a thud, sealing the life inside it. I want no part in taking Desmond's life; I want to go home and smile at Jasmine and see Alex smile at me.