As it stands, even my science experiments have been put on hold, the chances of me ruining the bloodier steps higher than me completing the project.
But him...
I smile just thinking about it.
It's been years since I'd last found a solid lead into the person who'd taken Katya. And I'd only been able to do that by scouring through all of Misha's connections and hidden communications. A lot of the people I'd found had ended up dead, but a few had changed identities over the years, trying to run away.
From me, or from someone else, I can't say.
Case in point, Mr. Petrovic had changed his identity ten times in the last decade, each time choosing a different nationality, and moving to a different part of the country.
I guess he'd thought himself safe with all those security measures. But he hadn't counted on my commitment to finding him.
A few years ago, I'd ended up enhancing a face recognition software that could now take old footage and analyzing it for behavioral patterns and tics. You can hide from the world, but you can't hide from yourself. And Mr. Petrovic might have changed his name, and his appearance to a degree. But some things never change. Like his slight limp, an old injury to his distal tibia making the connection to the talus quite shaky.
His gait analysis had presented a ninety percent accuracy, and in my desperation, I'd overlooked the ten that was not conclusive.
My software, though, had done its job.
"Now that the introductions are over, let's focus on today's topic, shall we?" I grin at him, opening my little pouch and removing a knife and an apple. "Here's how things are going to go. I am going to ask questions and you are going to answer. If I like your answers, then no pain. If I don't," I wiggle my eyebrows at him, "well, you shall see."
His head moves around the room, probably searching for a way out.
"We're at a subterranean level. There's no way out, Mr. Petrovic. Not even if you manage to get past me, which, let's face it," I purse my lips, "is not happening. So your best bet is to be as cooperative as possible."
I start peeling the apple, my eyes firmly set on his terrified expression.
"Why don't we start with your connection to Misha," I say, taking a bite from the apple.
I already know that Mr. Petrovic used to act as a broker between the US and Europe, bringing people over with the promise of a job and then selling them further. Which begs the question. Why would he be involved with Misha?
"I don't know who that is," he says, rather too quickly.
"Mr. Petrovic." I sigh, a little bummed it's not going to be as fast as I'd wanted it. "I'm a busy man. Very busy. Think about it, instead of interrogating you for hours, I could be out enjoying the sun, killing a dozen people, and getting my daily dose of vitamin D. Instead, I have to be cooped up inside, with the prospect of killing just one person." His shoulders slump, his eyes widening a little.
Good.
"How is that fair for me?" I take another bite, keeping my eyes on him.
"Please..." The cry for help is barely audible, but I guess he finally realized the situation he finds himself in.
"I didn't hear you," I put one hand to my ear, waiting for him to repeat himself.
"I can't tell you," he says, almost resigned to his fate. "They'll kill my family," he continues, his eyes pleading with me.
Well, this is one of those situations that I usually dread, because if someone's family is in danger, the chances of them talking are... slim. Not zero, though. It's just a matter of adjusting the torture accordingly so they break.
"I guess we'll talk in a few days, Mr. Petrovic." I stand up to leave, and I hear his sigh of relief. I guess he doesn't realize what those few days will entail.
A quick message to one of my men, Maxim, and he's already here.
"V sadu?" He asks, eyeing the prisoner.
Oh, Maxim, how well you know me.
"Indeed, in the garden," I reply, mischief twinkling in my eyes.
Maxim nods, going over to Mr. Petrovic and grabbing him by the chair. He easily lifts him in the air, and I follow behind as he takes him to the garden.
Like the entire level of this place, the garden is subterranean too. It's more of a greenhouse, if I'm being honest, but I've built it in such a way to emulate outside conditions.
We reach the garden and Maxim goes in the back, to a pair of suspenders. Maneuvering the chair around, he hitches the legs of the chair through the suspenders, ensuring the chair is about two feet off the ground.
"What... what's happening?" Mr. Petrovic keeps talking, his eyes bulging in his head.
"This is my attempt at convincing you to talk. We'll see if it works. In a few days." I give him a brilliant smile, after which Maxim promptly gags him again. Then, he removes the bottom of the chair, so that Mr. Petrovic's ass is slowly molding through the hole.
Under the suspended chair, there are about five bamboo sprouts, all newly planted and ready to grow tall and beautiful. Mr. Petrovic is about to get up and personal with a few of them, and very soon. If he's lucky, one might even penetrate him in the ass, and stimulate his prostate. A little pleasure amid all the pain.
Alas, I don't think he's that lucky.
Leaving the greenhouse, I check the time, knowing I have another matter to tend to.
Vanya is trailing behind me, her attitude much improved.
"We'll find her," she says confidently, jumping up and down in a dance of happiness.
How I wish I could share her outlook.
But it's been nine years since Katya was taken. Nine years that I failed her, and if she's still alive, she's likely lived through countless terrors.
Sometimes I have to ask myself if I'd rather find her alive but broken, or dead and at peace.
Assisi Lastra.
I let the name roll on my tongue as I remember the tiny girl with fiery eyes. It is my duty to test a theory when it arises, and she'd just handed me a challenge.
Meeting her had been... interesting. To say in the least.
She'd certainly not been what I expected, given that she grew up in a convent. Hell, she hadn't even been on my radar until a short while back when Father Guerra had turned up dead at Sacre Coeur.
I pride myself on having eyes and ears in all places, but Agosti's sister had been a blind spot. Not that she'd been of any interest until Guerra ended up disemboweled in public. And so I'd decided to get a little more insight into that particular event.
She might be just a small player, but in the big scheme of things, it's the small players that decide the outcome of a game. In their insignificance, they are the best pawns, going about undetected, with people sparing them the least attention.
So I'd set about hacking her phone. It hadn't even been hard to find out her number, since Agosti isn't the best at keeping his communication with his sister a secret. One phishing message and I'd been sure she'd bite, after all, a naïve miss like her is the best target for such things.
But she hadn't. Instead, she'd replied with the most outrageous thing. She'd renounced her prize in favor of someone else. Only after a few, slightly embarrassing attempts, did I realize I was not in fact speaking with Catalina Agosti, but with her close friend, Assisi — Marcello's sister.
I'd been even more befuddled when her retorts had taken a humorous route, and I'd found myself compelled to continue the banter.
I certainly hadn't expected to enjoy sparring with her so much, or for so long. Given my limited interaction with the outside world, it had been just a way to get rid of my boredom.
But then I met her in the flesh... Well, that had been unexpected. For such a little thing, steeped in ignorance from those dogmatic teachings at Sacre Coeur, she'd certainly been intriguing. Her reaction to the mutilated nun had been simply astonishing.
I should have realized from her caustic replies to my messages that she wouldn't be just a regular miss. Where I would have expected her to run screaming at the sight of blood and organs, she'd taken it one step
further by getting her hands dirty.
My lips twitch as I remember her elbows deep in the nun's guts. Considering it's one of the last things I remember from that particular encounter it had definitely made an impression on me. The last thing I can recall had been zoning in on her face, admittedly a very handsome face. But her birthmark, that red spot just above her eyebrows, had caught my attention and held it.
It had been like becoming hypnotized by that red. Then she'd had to actually smear blood on it, and I'd simply lost it.
When I'd woken up, though, something extraordinary had happened. I'd set my sight on her, and out of nowhere, Vanya had simply vanished.
I'd been dumbstruck by her sudden disappearance. I've lived with her by my side for the last twenty-two years. Not once had she just vanished into thin air. One way or another, she's always been with me. She may not always talk or interact with me, but she's never out of my vantage point.
Until Assisi.
I frown as I think about the crux of the problem. The moment Assisi had disappeared from my sight, Vanya had returned—in full force.
It wasn't until that moment that I'd realized just how refreshing it had been to have a moment of peace, without my sister constantly haunting me.
As soon as I'd made that observation, I'd sneakily made sure to see Assisi again before she left Sacre Coeur. And once more, Vanya had gone missing.
I have no idea how, or even why, such a thing would happen, but I need to test it one more time. Just to make sure it hadn't been a fluke.
I've tried to think what could have caused this mental break, since Vanya is, and has always been, part of my mind. I'd even asked Marcello what had happened while I'd been out. Everything to figure out what could have possibly triggered this connection between Assisi and Vanya.
Still... nothing.
The brain works in mysterious ways. Of that I am sure. But years of consultations with professionals, and not once has Vanya disappeared from my side. Then suddenly, one meeting with an inconsequential female and she's gone?
I must study this phenomenon in depth to get to the bottom of this. Because if I can permanently get rid of Vanya...
Not that I don't like having my sister around, but I've had decades with her by my side, and that can get tedious.
Parking my car just off the road, I take out a laptop to check the situation. Knowing Marcello, he would have upped security the moment he moved in. Still, that won't stop me. I bypass his cybersecurity, getting myself inside his framework. From there, it's easy to access the security cameras throughout the house.
I fast-forward today's events until I catch sight of Assisi, seeing exactly which one is her room. Once confirmed, a brief calculation of angles and I spot the window to her room.
Second floor.
Luckily, I've had enough experience climbing buildings to make this a piece of cake.
Leaving my things behind, I skirt through the bushes until I'm at the back of Marcello's house. Identifying the window, I climb up using the relief of the building for support. As usual, Vanya is by my side, climbing at her own pace. When I reach her room, I use a small screwdriver to open the window, effortlessly swinging myself inside the room.
Marcello would have my head if he knew I'm spying on his sister.
A smile pulls at my lips at the hilarity of the situation. Still, I'm selfish enough that if I see an opportunity to get rid of my sister's ghost I'll take it, regardless of whom I have to use to achieve my purpose.
The room is shrouded in darkness save for a beam of light from the moon. I carefully step inside, walking towards the bed in the center of the room.
A small form is huddled in the middle of the bed, the sheet covering her entire body as she sleeps peacefully.
My eyes are intent on her for a moment before I look around, mentally calling Vanya.
She's gone.
I quietly walk around the room, noting she's nowhere in sight.
Interesting.
Propping myself against the wall in front of the bed, I study Assisi's sleeping form, wondering just what exactly is it about her that's making Vanya disappear.
Maybe it's her holiness.
But just as the thought arises, a chuckle escapes me. According to what I've learned of her, that's definitely not the case.
Curiosity brimming inside of me, I take a step closer, carefully taking a seat on the bed so I can inspect her better.
With her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, she looks almost angelic. Her hair, unbound, with strands scattered on the pillow, resembles a halo around her head. I don't think I've ever seen a lighter shade of blonde. Her heart-shaped face is objectively exquisite, the red mark on her forehead only enhancing its uniqueness.
Just at that moment she moves, shuffling around in bed, the sheet slowly sliding down her body.
Fuck!
My eyes widen as I realize she's not wearing anything underneath. It had been easy to refer to her as a girl until now, but as her ample tits pop free, her nipples puckered and standing to attention, I realize my mistake.
She's not a girl.
Fuck, but I didn't realize little miss nun would have the body of a porn star.
I also note another thing. Just above her breast, there is a gnarly scar in the shape of a cross. I frown, but as my eyes move over her chest, I see more scars, some smaller, some bigger, as if she'd been tortured for years.
Where did she get those?
A small sound escapes her lips. Her features drawn up in a frown, she continues moving around, the sheet sliding even lower.
I blink twice at the unexpected strip tease show in front of me. Unwittingly, my eyes rove over her naked flesh, down her small waist and taut stomach and...
"Christ, she might still make a believer out of me." I mutter low, unable to believe what I'm seeing.
Rolling around in bed, she ends up closer to me, the curve of her ass in the air as she moans deep in her throat.
I stand up, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of my thoughts. I feel heat creep up my cheeks, and I have to shake myself.
Think about murder, or mutilation, or breaking someone's bones.
Scaphoid, trapezium, capitate...
I hum to myself the bones I enjoy breaking, slowly finding some modicum of control.
This was only supposed to be a test. A way to rationally explain to myself why Vanya would disappear in Assisi's presence.
Not an exercise in how fast I can lose my mind.
Cursing under my breath, I avert my gaze, focusing on an empty corner to gather my thoughts.
There has to be a logical explanation to it.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize there has to be more to this. I can't possibly solve a twenty-two-year-old problem in one night. And so I must come up with something else.
Assisi is restless in her sleep, the rustling of sheets only serving to distract me from my mental exercises, tempting me to sneak a peek at her rather enchanting backside.
Alas, this is not what I came here for.
But Vanya's not watching...
I firmly shut that thought down, trying instead to come up with a plan to study this phenomenon more in depth. But for that, I'd need Assisi's assistance. And I must admit I haven't made the best first impression.
Well, if she's not willing, then I'll have to make her willing.
Now it's only a matter of finding out what she wants most, and give it to her.
Avoiding looking at her more than necessary, I leave the room, a plan already forming in my head.
"Why are you so interested in her?" Vanya asks from my side. I only spare her a glance, my eyes fixed on the computer as I comb through footage from Sacre Coeur, all in an attempt to understand Assisi better. If I can find out what she most desires, I can give it to her in exchange for her cooperation.
"She's pretty," I half-lie. I don't know why I'm hiding the truth from Vanya, since it's not like she's actually a sentient being that can get u
pset.
"She is," she agrees, coming closer to study Assisi's face. "But you've never been interested in a girl before. Not even a pretty one," she says, pinning me down with her inquisitive gaze.
"There's a first time for everything, right?" I mutter.
She shrugs, turning her head to watch the footage with me.
Sacre Coeur only has cameras in strategic locations, so the video doesn't give me much to go off.
By chance, though, I spot Assisi leaving the house with Catalina and her daughter, taking a car to go somewhere. My lips curl up as I congratulate myself for setting up a screen to track movement in and out of Marcello's house.
It takes me a while to track down the car, but I find it parked at a shopping mall.
Well, this should be interesting.
I end up spending an entire afternoon watching the women prance from store to store, trying to keep my focus as I file in every relevant piece of information.
Like the fact that she likes blue.
I'd never realized just how tedious women's shopping could be, but for the sake of data gathering, I must suffer through it.
In the end, the only noteworthy thing is Assisi's excitement about every single store. Even the most uninteresting thing seems to get her attention. The fact that she stops to marvel at furniture — boring, common place furniture—makes me want to groan out loud.
She even stops at a toy store, browsing the shelves and looking at dolls and stuffed animals. Why, she can't seem to tear her eyes from a human sized teddy bear. She keeps walking around the store, but she always ends up in front of the teddy bear, staring at it until she eventually makes up the courage to touch it.
Wait a moment. Could that be what she desires the most?
Well, that wasn't so hard.
Waiting until she's gone, I go to the store and buy the teddy bear, convinced this will get me into her good graces and make her cooperative.
As I struggle to carry the enormous bear to my car, Vanya decides to make an appearance, frowning as she takes in the stuffed animal in my arms.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 14
