Expelling a sharp exhale, my chest filled with fire at those familiar words. I pounded out of the door and straight into Mikhail’s waiting blacked-out van.

The byki in the back were all sitting calmly, waiting for my orders. As the passenger door shut, Mikhail pushed a rifle into my hands. I looked up to him, and he said, “As much as you scare the fuck out of me with those bladed ’dusters in the cage, I hope you know how to work one of these. The warehouse cellar where the Jakhua cunt hides out is gonna be filled with guards with rifles. You ain’t gonna get much of a chance to fight these fuckers up close.”

I wrapped my hands around the rifle and said, “Don’t worry about me. Worry about getting yourselves out alive.”

Murmurs sounded from the byki in the back of the van. As Mikhail started the engine, he turned and said, “I’ve worked for your papa now for fifteen years.” I looked at him and he was looking right back at me.

“Never, not once, in all the jobs we’ve been sent on, has the knayz or a pakhan fought beside us. Alik Durov fought in the Dungeon. He murdered on these streets for nothing more than he was a sick fuck. He treated our men like dogs, disposable soldiers for his amusement. But you, sir, you fight alongside us with pride, as a brother in arms. You give us pride for the Volkov family, and for our position in New York.” He glanced back to the watching now-silent byki, and said, “You’ve led us in every way since you came back. And every one of our brothers here, and the rest of the Bratva soldiers, would follow you straight into hell.” Mikhail shifted in his seat and added, “You’ll be the best pakhan we’ve ever had someday, sir. And I’ll be proudly standing by your side. We all will.”

Emotion clogged my throat at the brothers’ faith in me, and I shared their pride. As I felt the steel of my ’dusters on my hands and the rifle sitting in my lap, I finally knew. I knew this was the life I was made for. The battle, the violence, the years of killing in the gulag, and brother to my thieves in law.

I was the motherfucking knayz of the Volkov Bratva.

And I wouldn’t fail tonight.

I wouldn’t fail until I wore the name pakhan in my heart. I wouldn’t stop until I made us the strongest, most feared Mafia in all of New York.

I took a long deep breath.

I was finally fucking home.

Chapter Twenty

Zaal

Darkness.

Back in darkness.

I hated the fucking darkness.

The chains hung tight and heavy around my wrists and ankles. And the cell was freezing cold.

I didn’t know how long I’d been back here in this hell, but it was long enough to miss the sun. It was enough to miss the light.

My stomach churned in pain. I had to close my eyes and breathe through my nose when I thought of what I missed most.

Talia. My Talia.

Anger filled my chest when I thought of her hanging off the chains, bloodied and beaten, with Jakhua holding a knife to her throat.

She was so strong. Begging with her eyes not to exchange my life for hers. But that was never a possibility. My heart, my heart would never survive losing her. It was full for her. I would take the drugs to keep her safe.

Talia would be safe.

The sound of a guard entering the cell pierced through the dark. Footsteps approached me. A bright light suddenly flared. I flinched away from the flash of white.

“Get up,” the usual guard hissed, speaking in my native Georgian tongue. “Master wants to see you.”

“He’s not my fucking master,” I snarled. The guard stepped back as I got to my feet and approached the door. I could see the fear on his face.

He was weak.

I held out my hands, but the guard didn’t move. “I will not move,” I said. “Do what you came to do.”

The guard hung back. I could hear the rattle of the keys in his shaking hands. Fury took hold, and slamming my hand against the metal bars, I roared, “Do it!”

The guard jumped into action and unlocked the door. I held out my hands. Gripping the chain he led me down the dank hallway and to a dark room at the end. My skin pricked as flashbacks rushed into my brain. Needles, pain, screams … Anri … Anri …

The guard pulled on the chain. He threw open a door to a room. Suddenly, everything was familiar—the narrow bed, the straps that tied me down, the single light hanging from the roof, and the smell. The smell of chemicals, of the drug, the drug they pumped into my veins, the drug that made me forget.

I didn’t want to forget.

I didn’t want to forget long golden hair, a pair of brown eyes and that smile. Talia’s smile.

Someone entered the door behind me. I knew it was Jakhua. I could sense him. I could see his face in my mind as he ordered the death of my family. I could clearly hear his voice as he ordered his guards to shoot, and I could see that look of satisfaction on his face, as he told the guards to leave my family in a heap against the wall, slaughtered and piled up like culled pigs. And I remembered his face as he strapped my brother and me down, and pumped us full of liquid rage.

“Get him chained to the wall,” he said from behind me. The guard pulled me by my chains, doing as instructed.

I hung from the wall. Jakhua ordered, “Tighter.”

The guard pulled on the chains. I gritted my teeth as my arms stretched so wide that my arm muscles burned.

I breathed through my nose; in and out, in and out, trying to dull the pain. Suddenly, two feet stood in front of me. Fueled with venom and hatred, I raised my head, and met the eyes of Jakhua. His face contorted with fury as I met his eyes. Pulling his arm back, he slammed it straight into my stomach. But I didn’t react. I didn’t even flinch.

Redness spread on Jakhua’s face. Gripping me by my hair, he wrenched back my head and spat, “You fucking dare to look me in the eye. You.”

My eyes never moved from his, and I hissed, “I remember. I remember, everything.”

When the cunt didn’t react, I said, “I remember you walking into our country house. I remember you killing my family. I remember being brought to you. Remember being tied down to a bed, along with my brother. I remember you experimenting on us. Injecting us, beating us, forcing us to fight as children. Forcing us to kill others, to learn to be savage. I remember you tying us to the wall, just as I am now, hitting us until we called you master. Beating us until we forgot our own names.”

Jakhua stepped back and smirked. “And here you are again. Back chained to my wall. About to call me Master once more.”

I pulled on the chains holding my arms as anger pumped scalding blood around my veins. “I’ll kill you,” I spat. Jakhua stilled.

“In a matter of minutes you’ll be back on the drug. In a matter of days, after being chained to this wall, you’ll be bowing at my feet, like the fucking dzlieri you are.”

Gritting my teeth, I couldn’t stop the furious roar that burst from my lips. But Jakhua just stood there, looking at me like I was nothing, like the dog he believed me to be.

“I’ll kill you for murdering my family. I’ll kill you for taking my brother from me, and I’ll fucking kill you for taking her from me!”

Jakhua laughed. He walked to a table. He picked something off it—a chain—and walked back toward me. “So, you finally remember Anri?”

I froze. I watched him circle the bed in the center of the room. He’d mentioned my brother … the brother I barely knew, only fractured memories visiting my dreams at night.