Page 125 of Emerald Vices
“Andrey,” Viktor pleads, “you can’t do this to me. I’m your brother!”
I raise my arm and circle in place, pointing the scalpel at the dark-eyed men forming the loose circle around us. “These are my brothers, Viktor. You are simply a traitor.”
“I’m no traitor!” he yelps. “I always had your back?—”
I laugh—a dark, cold laugh that has Viktor cringing back into silence. “I suppose you did have my back. All the better to stab me in it, right? Then again, I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a coward.”
Viktor’s mouth curls down. “I’m not a coward?—”
“No?” I turn around as the crowd of men part. Ivan strides between them, stopping where Viktor is restrained, his face twisted into an ugly grimace. “What do you call a man who orders his own wife’s death?”
“Ivan…” Blood drips down Viktor’s jaw and over his chest. The mark of the Kuznetsov Bratva is barely visible on his chest beneath the crusted grime. He smells like a slaughterhouse. The next few minutes will do him no favors in that department.
“You have the audacity to look me in the face? To call me by my name?” Ivan roars, drawing himself up to his full height. “After what you did to my daughter?”
There’s a moment where I wonder if Viktor will beg for his life. Maybe, for once, he’ll find some humility.
Then he sneers, and I can only sigh. Tigers never change their stripes, I suppose.
“Your daughter is a whore!” he spits. “She deserved what she got!”
Before Ivan can do him any damage, Leonty beats him to the punch—literally. He flies from the outer rim of the circle and cracks Viktor across the face with a wicked backhand, as if he didn’t get enough of that when I left them alone in the whorehouse.
Viktor’s teeth clack together and his eyes roll in their sockets.
Leonty looms over him, ready to deal out more. “Say another word about her, and I will cut out your damn tongue.”
Ivan nods approvingly and rejoins his men, all of whom are wearing satisfied smirks.
“This is ridiculous,” Viktor blanches as the circle reforms. “You’ve really brought me here to punish me over a woman?”
“It’s a weak man that arranges a hit on his wife,” I say. “It’s an even weaker man that turns his back on his family.”
“You’re no family of mine. Not anymore.”
“Those may just be the truest words you’ve ever spoken.”
I know what I have to do. I’m prepared to do it. But when I look in my brother’s eyes, I see the little boy who came to me wailing when he had nightmares.
That boy is long gone, though.
And he’s never coming back.
I twist my scalpel in my hands. “Since we’re both in agreement, it’s time to make the parting official.”
Viktor spasms, trying to free himself from his restraints. “No! Let me go. Let me the fuck out of here! If you kill me?—”
“Kill you? As if I care whether you live or die. No, Viktor. I’ve brought you here to sever you from my Bratva once and for all.” I place the tip of my blade against the tattoo on his chest. “This is my mark. You’ve worn it with my permission. As of this moment, consider that permission withdrawn.”
I press the blade to his skin and do what I must.
Viktor screams and thrashes at first, but his energy wanes quickly. By the end, he’s a pale, shivering mess. He’s barely even conscious. And the tattoo is no longer a part of him.
“Unchain him and leave him naked on Slavik’s doorstep,” I order. “Viktor is his problem from now on.”
My men move to do my bidding, but Ivan stands. “Every man in this room is depending on the Kuznetsov Bratva to retain power and influence. Viktor was meant to be your successor. With him gone?—”
“Nothing has changed,” I finish for him. “Do you have no faith in my victory, Ivan?”