The air in the room is cold, biting against my bare skin.

The sizzling wrought iron poker in Kolya’s hand is another thing altogether.

I watch grimly as he twists the poker, letting it turn white-hot as he holds it to the flame of the blowtorch. The room smells of rust and disinfectant. A single bulb swings above us, casting shifting shadows over the concrete walls.

I’m chained to a chair, my wrists and ankles bound, rivulets of sweat running down my shirtless back despite the chill.

Seemingly satisfied with how hot the poker is now, Kolya turns to stand before me, calm and composed. His eyes burn with the cold fury that only a father knows when his child is in danger.

Four of his men are in here, too. But they stand to the side, watching.

This is Kolya’s show.

And I’m the main attraction.

Nina sits in the corner, her expression blank, a stillness in her posture that suggests she’s perfectly fine letting this happen.

“You don’t want to do this,” I mutter, my voice hoarse but steady.

Kolya tilts his head, considering. Then he steps closer, the glowing iron hissing as it cuts through the air. “Until I know where my daughter is,” he says evenly, “and what you’ve done to her, and if she’s been harmed, there is no limit to what I want to do to you, Mr. Mori.”

I keep my expression neutral even as my muscles tighten against the inevitable. “I didn’t take her. In fact, I need you to let me the fuck out of here so I can go replace her,” I snarl viciously.

Kolya doesn’t respond. He just lifts the poker higher, its glow reflected in his cold, calculating eyes. “Now might be a good time to tell you,” he murmurs, “that I have ears all over my house. I heard your conversation last night with your sister.”

He’s bluffing. He has to be.

Kolya leans closer, the iron red-hot between us. His lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. “The plan was always the same, was it, Takeshi? Use Katarina to get inside the Ishida-kai?”

My own words hit me like a punch to the face.

So much for my theory he was bluffing.

“You heard that?” I growl.

Kolya doesn’t flinch. “I did.”

“Then you also heard me say I’m in love with your daughter.”

“I’ve heard you say all kinds of bullshit since you wormed your way into this house,” he replies coldly. “Attempting to sway my men’s loyalty, trying to insert yourself into my affairs. Now,” he murmurs darkly, easing the poker closer to my bare chest. “Where. Is. She.”

“If I knew were Katarina was right now,” I seethe, “there would be nothing on this Earth stopping me from breaking out of this chair and⁠—”

The iron jabs into my side, instantly searing my skin and sending pain flooding through my body. I bite back a scream, my jaw tightening, eyes blazing as I glare at him.

“WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?” Kolya roars.

“I love her!” I snarl back at him, the words torn from me.

Kolya touches the iron to my side again, the scent of burning flesh filling the room. My vision swims, but I don’t look away. “I’m love with her!” I bellow, my voice raw. “I’m fucking in love with her, you motherfucker!”

Another jab of the iron, this time to my shoulder. The pain is indescribable, but I don’t break. I refuse.

Kolya’s rage is barely contained. “Why did you worm your way into my home? And do not lie to me,” he warns, his voice deathly calm. He sets the poker down and reaches for a katana resting on a nearby table, its razor-sharp blade glinting in the dim light as he unsheathes it.

I meet his gaze, chest heaving, body trembling in pain. “Answers,” I rasp. “I wanted answers. And vengeance. Not against Katarina. Against you.”

For a moment, the room feels even colder. “Why would you seek vengeance against me?” he demands, his grip tightening on the sword’s hilt.

“Because you killed Akira Ohno,” I say, my voice steady despite the pain.

The name hangs heavily in the air. Kolya’s brow furrows, his expression shifting from rage to confusion. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Bullshit!” I snap. “You knew before, at the hospital. I could tell.”

Kolya shakes his head slowly, his frown deepening. “No. The name made me think of someone else, that’s all.”

My frustration bubbles over. “Akira was my friend and mentor. He taught me everything. He made me the man I am. He was like family,” I seethe. “And then, when he came back to visit Japan, he crossed you, and you killed him.”

Kolya shakes his head. “Your information is incorrect. You’ve wasted your time, and probably your life, trying to infiltrate my home and my family,” he growls.

“This can stop right now,” Nina spits, standing and storming over to me, dark fury clouding her face. “Please, Takeshi. Kolya’s telling you to your face that your information on this Akira person is wrong. So there’s no reason for you to keep us from Kat⁠—”

“YOU are the ones keeping us from her!” I roar, making her take a step back as I lurch against my binds. “By keeping me here! She’s out there, and we are wasting fucking time!!”

“Fuck you!” Nina screams. She jams her hand into her pocket and yanks out two little white envelopes with gold trim. “Stop fucking lying, you manipulative psycho!”

She rips open one of the envelopes and yanks out a white card before shoving it in my face. I frown, my eyes struggling to read the too-close handwritten words in heavy black ink.

You’re mine.

My frown deepens as my eyes drag from the card to Nina’s furious face.

“What the fuck is this?”

“I found them in her room!” she snaps, her voice shaking. “I know this is your doing!”

She jams the other card in my face. This one reads Still mine.

“Nina—”

I grunt as her hand slaps my face hard. “Where the fuck is my friend!!?” she screeches. “Where the fuck is⁠—”

“Nina.”

Kolya’s voice is low, but it silences her instantly. There’s a rawness in his eyes as he reaches down and plucks the cards from where Nina’s hurled them onto my lap.

He reads the cards, again and again, his eyes widening as they drag over the ink.

“I know this handwriting,” he says quietly.

His throat works as he pulls his phone out of his suit pocket. He thumbs through it, frowning, before he looks up at me.

“Is this your friend?” he murmurs, turning the phone around to face me.

My heart stops.

It’s Akira.

Akira as I remember him—young, cocky, and smug, standing beside a motorcycle with a lopsided grin on his face.

My throat tightens as I nod. “Yes,” I hiss.

Kolya exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly. He turns to his men. “Cut him loose.”

The guards exchange unsure glances.

“Now,” he snarls.

They move quickly, releasing me from the chair, but I don’t move, my eyes locked on Kolya.

“Your friend isn’t dead, Takeshi.”

Something claws inside me, choking my breath.

“That man,” Kolya says quietly, “is my brother. Jin Ishida.”

The room spins as the weight of his words crashes over me. “What the fuck did you just say?” I whisper.

Kolya’s eyes are tense as they meet mine.

“Can you walk?” he growls. “I need you to come with me right now.”

My mouth thins. “This concerns Katarina?”

“It…might,” Kolya growls.

I lurch to my feet. “Then I can fucking run.”

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