We arrived at the strip club in about ninety minutes, thanks to Aleksei’s driving. Sometimes, I had to force myself not to kiss the ground when he drove. God damn maniac. My uncle drove for a bit in the off-road racing circuit. Unfortunately, he taught all my cousins how to drive like that, no matter where they were. It was great when we needed to deliver something fast, but being a passenger was asking to step beyond the pearly white gates.

The bouncer out front opened the door for us as we walked into the club. The music was loud, smoke hung from the ceiling like cloudy day, and the smell of booze had turned sour. I stayed out of these shitholes. I preferred the business side, our larger corporations, than the seedy bars, clubs, diners, and other places that were dotted around our territory. Sure, I still managed them, but I didn’t need to do that in person.

Walking through to the back of house, I nodded to the ladies getting ready and snapped at Aleksei as he veered off in their direction.

“Work, Aleksei. Then play.”

He chuckled. “Yes, pakhan.”

Every time it grated on me, but after a thousand and one times of tell him to shut up, Aleksei never listened. I used to think he enjoyed getting a rise out of me and so I stopped letting it show that it bothered me or acknowledging it. Turns out, he still did it.

“Boss.” Laslo stepped forward and nodded to me. “You were faster than I expected. The Columbian’s behave?”

“No, but what else is new? How’s our gost’?” [How’s our guest?]

He opened the door that led down to the lower levels. Not all our properties had basements, but we turned those that did into jail cells. Some were more equipped for torture than others. You never knew when one of our enemies decided to sneak into your territory and you needed to make them sing like a canary.

“Still out cold.”

My eyes had to adjust to the lighting. The yellow tinted lights that hung on the walls were reminiscent of the ones you found on construction sites. They cast an eerie glow on the cement grey. This basement was particularly small. I knew we used this normally for those who didn’t pay. Not necessarily requiring the full repertoire of torture devices needed to extract information. There were only four cells in the whole place and two rooms. One room served as a break room for our personnel; we used the other for interrogations.

“The last one…here…” Laslo pointed to the far cell, and I could see a body curled up on the floor in the fetal position.

Going over to the cell, my eyes widened. “You didn’t say it was a fucking child! A girl at that! I told you not to fucking touch her!”

She was covered in blood. You could easily see parts of her face were bruised and swelling. Her shirt was torn and blood completely soaked it, to where I had no idea what the original color was. There were also remnants of pants on her legs, but they were so torn up that you could see her skin.

Her skin tone may have been leaning towards white, but there were so many scratches and bruises that there was no way to tell the color anymore. The worst were her wrists and right ankle. They were bent weirdly, signifying they were broken. My anger spike to rage as I looked at Laslo. His hands flew up as he stepped back.

“We didn’t…boss…we didn’t touch her. She came in like that. Hobbling out of the alley. She passed out and Boris caught her before she hit the ground.”

I stared at the body. She didn’t look alive. She was pencil thin, easily a sign of malnutrition. This was what you saw in third world countries, not New York City. Hell, even the homeless looked better than she did. This was abuse or someone wanted to kill her.

“You said she asked for help?”

“Specifically, she said ‘please help or please kill me’.” Laslo was looking at her, sadness in his eyes. “I’ve seen nothing like this. She’s just a rebenok.” [She’s just a child.]

Rubbing my chin, I stared down at her. Well, this was a wrench in my night. I didn’t even know how to really handle this. I mean, obviously, I’d get nothing from her in this state. How she knew to use my mother’s name. How she ended up in that condition. Why was she asking for death? Who the hell was she? She could only answer all these questions, and she was currently out cold.

Going into the cell, I crouched down just behind her back. The shirt she had on was sticking to her, and I knew there was some kind of open wound there as well. Putting two fingers to her neck, she had a pulse, but it was weak. It surprised me, considering the state she was in, that she was still alive. Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I stood up and stepped away from her.

Pulling out my phone, I put it to my ear. “Kamilia.”

“Brat.” [Brother.]

“What are you doing right now?”

She sighed. “Apparently, packing up my supplies and coming over.”

I let out a chuckle. “You know me too well.”

“You only call when you need something. For once, I’d just like to talk to you like we used to.”

My older sister was born between Juri and Kazmer. She was to be sold off, but she found a better way to become one of the top doctors in the state. My father ended up still having her marry for the bratva, but it wasn’t to lead by a Vor’s side. She married one of the second sons of another Russian Bratva family. However, it meant that she could stay close and help the family. She was our primary care physician while she pursued an illustrious medical career.

“What’s the condition?” Her voice broke through my thoughts.

I gazed over the little thing in our cell. “Broken bones, bruises, scratches, bleeding quite a bit, but I’m unsure of the extent of the injuries on her back.”

“Her?” Whatever my sister was doing stopped as she asked.

“Yeah. Came over to our boys knowing who they were. She’s…either been tortured or abused…or both. She’s a twig…”

Kamilia let out a huff. “Sounds like it’s been going on for a while if she’s a twig.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. “I’m bringing her to the house. Be there when I get there.”

She snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Zasranets.” [Asshole.]

The line went dead, and I shoved the phone in my pocket. Taking off my jacket, I rolled up the sleeves of my black Armani shirt. Opening the cell, I bent down and picked up the girl. She was lighter than I even realized. In my arms, she looked like a doll. My brothers were all built, but somehow, I got the ‘built like a farmhouse’ side of the family. My shoulders were wider, and I maxed out at 6’ 6”.

I worked out a lot as a teenager and into my twenties, doing hours and hours of weights a day. Now, I kept my body in shape enough to take down anyone if I needed to, though those days were rare now. However, I was pretty sure I lifted more weight than what she weighed by the time I was fifteen.

“Aleksei, you drive. We are headed home.”

He nodded, not saying a word. His eyes focused on the girl in my arms. This probably hit a little close to home for him. His sister once had been kidnapped. The condition we got her back in wasn’t nearly as bad as this poor girl, but she hadn’t been able to make it. This one somehow walked, from god knows where, to the club with all this damage and still be able to ask for help. She was stronger than most, but how strong I would need her to tell me.

“Should we warn Lev?”

I shook my head. “If she wakes up between now and getting there, we can. Otherwise, if she’s still out, there is no reason to move everyone. In this state, I don’t think she could even hurt a fly.”

Aleksei didn’t say anything else as we made our way up to the main floor. He headed back towards the club to pull the car around back. I wasn’t about to scare the shit out of everyone with a girl looking like this. Laslo opened the back door for me, and I headed out to wait for the car.

“Is there anything else you need, boss?”

I narrowed my eyes at Laslo for a moment. “See if your boys can track her movements through the cameras in the city. Lev’s a little busy and I want to see how far she came.”

He nodded and closed the door behind him, back into the club.