Her eye narrowed, and I saw her swallow a couple of times. “Marek Baranov, fourth son of Ivano Baranov.” The voice was a croak, but it didn’t seem like it pained her to speak. I noticed her eye dart towards the water next to the bed.

I was about to tell her to take a drink when I remembered that both her wrists were dislocated and one of her hands was broken. Normally, an interrogation would be best if the person wasn’t comfortable, but I needed her to speak more than just a few words.

Striding over the edge of the bed, I grabbed the glass of water and leaned forward, tipping it slowly against her lips. For the first time, emotion crossed her face; surprise. However, it was gone as quickly as it came. She took small sips of the water until about half the glass was gone.

Stepping back, I placed the glass on the table, her eye following my every move. She was waiting for me to strike her down, I realized, but I didn’t let the disgust show on my face.

“Who are you?”

Her lips parted for a moment and then shut. After a few seconds, I realized this may have been futile. My hand went to the gun at my waist.

“Rosaria…Rosaria Bernardi.”

“Yabet’.”

She was Carlo Bernardi’s daughter. I didn’t know all their names because he had so damn many, but from the looks of her, she was one of the younger ones. I knew his three boys, Domani, Enzo, and Tempo. Domani had given up his position as head of the mafia to marry for love. It was a scandal and I’m pretty sure Domani barely escaped with his life. He’d been smart enough to hide his bride. It left Enzo to be the next in line as the head. He was young, though. So, their father, the ruthless fucking bastard, was still head even in his sixties.

“I should kill you right here.”

Her eye didn’t fear me, there was still that emptiness. “Please do. I’d asked your men, but they obviously are useless.”

I barked out a hollow laugh. “If they killed you, it would insight a war.”

“They wouldn’t know who I was. They would have thrown me in a ditch, and no one would have been the wiser.” Her voice was devoid of all emotion.

“Do you have a death wish, króshka?”

Using the word baby seemed appropriate. She was a child, a little girl who seemed to be too knowledgeable about our world.

She blinked a few times at me. “If you met my father, you would too.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Explain to me the series of events that brought you to my doorstep.”

Rosaria took a deep breath. “You are aware of my father’s reputation?”

I nodded. Cruel, ruthless, leading by fear, and a habit of threatening his own men. Oh, I was well aware of Carlo Bernardi’s reputation. My father and Carlo did not get along. There had been more than a few disputes, and a couple of wars, in their time. Our reach and resources always edged him out. It chaffed him to no end he couldn’t get us out of New York. As of late, he’d been quiet, but my brothers and I were always ready.

“Well, he’s worse when he knows he can get away with it. When it’s his own blood.” Her eyes, for the first time, left me and fell to her lap. “The men fear him, but know that his blood means next to nothing outside of Enzo.” The hatred in her voice when she said her brother’s name was shocking.

She continued. “The men enjoy themselves with us girls. Some of my sisters are willing, but most of us…” Her voice trailed off for a second.

“They raped you?”

Rosaria nodded. “My father found out his second in command had raped me. He called me a slut, a whore of the highest degree. He’s been off his game recently; his punishments aren’t as severe. I think old age is finally getting to him. Can’t quite whip with the same vigor he used to.” Her snort made her cough.

Stepping up again, I helped her sip the rest of the water. The eye that had looked down now stared at me and every single move I made. When I stepped back this time, I sat down on the chair Kamilia had been sitting in.

“I’d managed to get out this time; get free. The guards were all in the house getting drunk because they signed a merger with one of the Spanish cartels. I was able to get out, and I walked. The sun wasn’t going down, but by the time I was in your territory, it was. I’d listened for the first Russian I heard. Apparently, I’d reached my limit.” She grimaced.

“How do you know my mother’s name?”

Her eye still hadn’t left mine. “Long ago, when I was a child…” I snorted, she still was a child. “…my father’s last wife spoke of your mother. It was a detail I filed away. All information is valuable, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

My jaw locked. That was something my father had said. ‘Mar, always be listening. Always listen and remember. One day, knowledge can save your life even if it seems irrelevant now.’

“I’ve met some of your sisters. None of them seemed as knowledgeable as you are in the mafia.”

Again, she snorted. “I wasn’t useful in any other way to my father. When I was a baby, I was kidnapped from my crib. I received burns on part of my shoulder. Marring me and decreasing my value is too much to be worth selling me off. Therefore, I became his favorite plaything. He could now mark me as he wished, destroy me as he wished, without fear of my value falling.”

How she spoke of herself…I felt it stab into my heart. If my sisters ever spoke like this, or my nieces, I would kill whoever told them their worth was based on their bodies. Anger flared in me and now, more than ever, I wanted to put a bullet in that man’s head. He’d taken many of our men over the years, our brothers. Apparently, he did the same on his own.

“Your father has already started looking for you.”

She wasn’t surprised. Two days ago, our men had caught the Italians skirting not just our borders but the Irish as well. They’d asked permission from the American mafia group, but it seems like they doubted her going into that territory. It was easy to pull the pieces together. Now, knowing who she was.

“I’m sure it’s a kill order.”

Again, she was right. Under the suspicion of deflecting, a woman was to be killed on sight. The issue was, there was no photo, no name, nothing for anyone but the Italians to know her. Juri was already headed back from Moscow when he heard the shuffling of men on the border.

“I’d go out there and let them kill me, but giving my father the satisfaction that he finally killed his whore of a daughter irks me.” Rosaria scoffed.

“Did he…” Fuck, I didn’t know how to ask this. “Did Carlo ever touch his own daughters?”

Her eye stared deep into me. Searching for something before she sighed. “It was a family affair.”

Rising to my feet, I turned from the bed and made the two steps to the window. My hands felt like they needed to break something. Kamilia would say I shouldn’t believe her, not without confirming her story. Her eyes, how she said every fact, made me believe her. It was the same as someone rattling off a rap sheet. Cold hard facts, laid out in a detached manner. I felt gross. Her own family had violated this girl. The ones who should have been protecting her.

“Are you the youngest?” I asked, without looking at her.

“No. I have three younger sisters.”

My lips curled. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Whirling around, I took the girl in. Yes, she was still a child compared to me, but she looked younger. Hell, her body was so small I’d honestly thought she was fifteen or sixteen. Her face was blank, still staring at me.

“Our Vor will be back in a day. He will decide what to do with you. Until then, you will be confined to this room. My sister will continue to tend to you if she so wishes. Answer her questions.”

Striding out of the room, Lev, Kamalia, two of nieces and one of my nephews, along with Aleksei, fell back from the door they had been leaning against as I threw it open. Passing them without a word, I knew Aleksei would follow, but I didn’t care. I needed some air. As I walked back out into the garden trying to catch a breath, the wind had picked up as a storm rolled in.

I realized this wasn’t what I needed. The itch to shoot someone was too strong. It was hard not to feel like rampaging across New York, or that I needed out of my skin. The entire conversation with Bernardi’s daughter left me feeling off.

“Marek…what…?”

I continued to walk through the garden, going to the car park at the back of the property. Throwing open the garage doors, I got into my Audi A3 and took off. Aleksei was left behind in the garage, but he would manage.

At first, I didn’t have a destination, but my car drove to the fighting ring. It had been years since I’d been here. I was no longer a young man needing to prove myself in the ring and it seemed idiotic to hurt myself for bragging rights. Now they would be a way to unleash this fury and rage I was feeling.

Pulling into the lot, I slammed my door and headed in the back. Julian, the proprietor of the fighting pits, headed me off.

“Mr. Baranov, it’s been a while. Are you here to bet?”

Undoing my cuff, I continued through the crowd. “No. I’m here to fight.”

His eyes widened. “I…well…we can put you in a couple fights, but I don’t know if I have anyone else in your…class.”

Age, he meant. Because I needed to feel older today. Lord almighty, I wouldn’t be able to hold back today. I would actually kill someone if one more person tried to spit in my face.

“I don’t care who you send in, Julian. Just send someone good. If they aren’t, I’ll kill them.”

Pulling my shirt out of my pants, I stripped it off and slipped my belt from the loops as well. Dumping them on the bench by the locker room, I took off my shoes and socks. Rider, Julian’s secondhand man and brain behind this moneymaker, came up to me. He pulled out my hands and wrapped them.

“Try not to kill them today. I don’t know if we can break even if you do.”

I snorted. “Don’t send someone weak in and I won’t.”

Backing away, Rider nodded and held out his hand to motion me to the fighting pit that was in the center of the room. It was surprisingly busy for Thursday, but I figured there was a match these people were here for specifically. For now, though, they would have to sit and watch me pummel the shit out of everyone else.