CHAPTER 24

Aleara’s POV.

I woke in a small and confined room, the walls compressing me and making me feel caged. My eyes stuck together, I blinked furiously to force them open, as to take in my surroundings. I was underground, in what looked like a sewer, heavy metal chains bound both my wrists and ankles to a wall. I could hear the slow dripping of water from above me. I watched as my breath blew a cloud in front of my face, it was cold here, too cold to be anywhere else.

Russia.

A cold and terrified shiver ran down my spine as I came to terms with my reality, the chances of me getting out of here alive were next to none, even if I played my cards right.

Normally, I was a strong believer in the fact that as a woman, I didn’t need a man, but in this situation I did. I needed Atlas’ understanding of the criminal underworld and his knowledge of the different cartels and their whereabouts to help me survive here. This world was his life, it was my inescapable nightmare.

From outside the heavily bolted metal door, I could hear someone coming, speaking in heavy Russian that I didn’t understand one bit.

Suddenly from the door, there was a sudden banging and clunking, signalling that the bolts had been removed, someone was coming in.

Three guesses the fuck who.

“Does the pretty little American girl like her new room?” the cold and drawling voice of Victor rang off the walls of the cell. My face curved upwards into a cringe.

“Or is it too cold in here for you’re precious little American skin? Soft people, American scum,” He hurled and spat into my tired and worn face. I shrugged my shoulder upwards to wipe my cheek, absolutely disgusted, I wouldn’t even feel bad if I projectile vomited all over this asshole.

“Where the fuck am I?” I hissed though gritted teeth up at his harsh and scarred face.

“Volgograd, in Russia,” he matched my expression, hissing back at me.

“Stalingrad,” I muttered more to myself then to him. He nodded slightly, letting out a sinister smirk.

“The American knows her history then,” he spoke proudly, “Volgograd or Stalingrad, formally. Named after the greatest leader that our country has ever seen, and the world,” I rolled my eyes, I didn’t want to go on a political history roller coaster with this Russian nutjob.

He noticed because his face turned from proud to angry in a split second, eying me off with such hate and disgust it wasn’t even funny.

“You know what this place is smart little American?” he mocked me, like a predator does to its prey before it mauls it to pieces.

“Do I want to know?” I rolled my eyes again, tired, and grumpy, I hadn’t eaten for hours on end, maybe days, my butt was sore from this ground, and I wanted to drag my cramping body back home and to bed.

“This is one of the last remaining famous Gulag camps that operated during the war. However, most of the people in here were NAZI soldiers who had been left behind after the battle of Stalingrad, but I’m sure along the lines there were some Americans in here as well. And the best part that I’m really looking forward to showing you is right around the corner from your cell here, the torture chambers,”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my heart rate beginning to rise rapidly and uncontrollably.

“Ahh so you do know then, clearly they still teach you about Stalin’s ruthless methods of torture in your American history class,”

Of course, I knew about some of the old Soviet Union torture methods and the reputation they had. Electrocution, beatings, stringing people up by their limbs, and pouring boiling water onto someone’s face. None of these I wanted to endure.

“What do you want from me?” I demanded as he smirked evilly at me, thrilled that we were on somewhat of the same page now.

“Well,” he started, lowering himself down to my height, running a grubby hand down the side of my face.

And there’s that vomit feeling again.

“What do I want?” he thought.

…

Atlas’ POV.

“Get me a list of every fucking base those Russian scum have! I want results within the hour!” I screamed at the hurried people as they scrambled around the compound frantically searching for anywhere that Aleara could possibly be. I hung up the phone angrily and looked over at Jay who sat beside me.

I had made it to the airport as quickly as I could, both Jay and I taking the jet back to Italy. I looked at the empty seat in front of me, only a few days ago, Aleara had been sitting there, sleeping and staring at me angrily. Now, there was nothing, no leads, no answers, no nothing.

“Atlas, they’ve pulled up the cameras back home,” Jay muttered as he tapped away on his computer, communicating with members at the compound.

“and what have they found?” I closed my eyes and leant by head back, something, please have found something I can work with.

“That car we passed last night, we’ve tracked it back to the airport, I’ll give you three guesses as to who got out of it,” he shook his head, and I knew exactly who.

“Victor Kozlov am I correct?” my face twitched as my lips curved into a deadly sneer. I had known it would be him, I just didn’t want to believe it.

The man was a snake, poisonous even for a mob boss, which was why no one ever wanted to deal or work with him. Kozlov had a reputation for being sly and was a known double crosser when it came to keeping his end of deals, I don’t associate with his kind.

“He did take a keen interest in Aleara the other night,” Jay spoke softly, I opened my eyes to look at him.

“mhm, that he did, and you know what else he took a keen interest in Jay? My partnership with his Russian syndicate. This isn’t one of his trafficking schemes, this is a game of leverage,” I stood up, pacing the plane.

“From what I hear, he’s in debt, and a hell of a lot of it. which would explain why he wants to partner with us, we’re in a good position financially and with our weaponry. He’s going to use Aleara to try and bargain with you,” Jay murmured.

“where could he have taken her, he has hundreds of compounds within his region and across the globe,” I continued to pace, rethinking the night for any kind of clues and signs he gave of his whereabouts.

“I’ll get the men back home to hack into the security footage and see if they can find anything on him,” Jay picked up his phone and began to dial, I sat back down and ran my hands through my wavy hair, sighing heavily and tapping my foot impatiently.

I was going to murder Victor and I was going to enjoy it.

…

Russia.

Aleara’s POV.

“What do I want?” he thought long and hard about his response as if this was the be all and end all of his life, the most important decision.

“Yes, that’s what I asked,” I rolled my eyes. This guy’s arrogance was beginning to get on my nerves. He snapped his eyes back to my frail body on the floor and eyed me carefully.

“There are a lot of things I could want from you little American,” his eyes scaled my body creepily and I shifted myself uncomfortably, trying to hide myself.

“No,” I gritted my teeth and spat at the expensive shows of this asshole.

“You do not like me?” his Russian accent was beginning to get on my nerves as he mocked me, he was using it to sound strong and dominating but really it just made me want to rip his heart out.

“was I not clear? No, I think you’re the most revolting, most vulgar, most horrible specimen I have ever laid eyes on,” I let out a soft chuckle, these mafia bosses weren’t used to hearing insults and it gave me such joy to tear down their egos like I was.

“but you care for Atlas Drakov yes? You like him,” he snickered. What was he getting at here? What was the message in his sick game.

“Atlas is far better then your scummy Russian ass,” I smiled innocently.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. Pounding his feet along the ground he reached the door, screaming something in Russian outside into the hallway. I could hear the stomping of boots grow louder and louder up the hall, getting closer and closer.

“What did you say to them?” I demanded, my voice cracking and croaky with fear.

“You’re going to learn some Russian history, first hand,” he smirked as mafia men in suits entered the room and began to unlock the chains. Hurling me to my feet and dragging me to the door.

“You’re going to pay for this, you’ll die for this you know!” I screamed out from the hall.

“I look forward to it!” he called back as I was lead into another room.

My heart dropped as the door opened and I saw what was in there. Torture devices of every degree, chains, boards, electrical devices, all in true Soviet Russian style. My stomach fell through the floor as I glanced around the room.

Victor entered the room, making a pathetic Hollywood delayed entrance.

“Now, back to what I want from you. I want you to tell me all about the Italian Mafia’s plans, their locations, and how to overthrow Atlas Drakov,” he smirked and sneered all in one.

“I’ll die before I tell you shit!” I sneered back at him, matching his expression.

“Lets test that theory then shall we little American,” he signalled to the men, “get the electrical box,”