Silken Chains (BOND BY MOROZOV BRATVA #1) by Mya Grey EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Mya Grey
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 6.9 MB
- Price: Free
Victor
Three months ago
“YOU UNDERSTAND what that means, don’t you, Dave, David, or
whatever the fuck you call yourself?” My voice is a cold, hard slap in the
silence of the warehouse, even over the echoing sound of Misha’s open
palm colliding with David’s flesh again and again.
Tied to a wooden chair, David is rendered helpless, trapped with no way
out. David’s cheek sports a fresh, blooming red handprint; his lips spit
blood with each cruel contact of skin against skin. His whimpering is
sickening. But it’s the tears, the trembling chin of his that truly irk me.
Weakness has no place in this world he ventured into.
“I-I understand, Victor, I…” he stammers, his voice trembling like the rest
of him. But Misha’s laughter, an evil soundtrack to David’s humiliation,
cuts him off.
“Oh, he understands, Victor. He understands he’s fucked.” Misha chortles,
his mirth dark and filled with disdain. His next slap is harder, and David’s
head snaps to the side.
“The forty-eight hours you were given are up, David. And what do we
have? Excuses,” I spit the words at him, venom dripping from every
syllable.
David’s futile attempt to compose himself is pathetic. “The market
crashed. I-I couldn’t do anything. I need more time. Please.” His plea is
desperate, almost as desperate as the situation he’s in.
“The market,” I echo, my voice a mocking dagger. “Seems like the market
has more balls than you.”
I watch David’s face crumble. But really, what the hell did he think would
happen? He snatched the Morozov Bratva’s cash, tried playing trader, and
botched it. No one is this stupid to think they can get away alive from that.
“You think you’re clever, huh, suka?” I sneer, my tone dripping with
disdain. “Skimming off the top for two years, playing with the Morozov
Bratva’s money. My money! But two million? Blyad! Have you lost your
fucking mind?”
David’s eyes dart frantically, the weight of his betrayal pressing him
further into his own grave. His usual confident smirk is now replaced with a
trembling lip.
“Victor, please, I thought—”
“You thought?” I cut in, laughing coldly. “You thought you could steal
from us, and we wouldn’t notice? Should’ve stuck to your day job as an
accountant, you fucking cockroach.”
He swallows hard, the prominent gulp visible against the pale canvas of
his terrified throat.
“It was a bad trade, Victor. I can fix this.”
I step closer, invading his space, making him feel the magnitude of his
fuck-up.
“Fix this? You’re two million in the hole, pizdec. You’re going to find out
what happens when you cross the Morozov Bratva.”
Without warning, my fist shoots out, crashing into David’s stomach with
enough force to send both him and the chair he’s tied to flying backward.
The thud echoes in the room, and he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. He
spits out blood, his pretty-boy face now distorted, swelling up, making him
look like a grotesque parody of his former self.
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