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CHAPTER SEVENTY ETHAN POV Nicolo's earlier words about what they did to his grandmother tighten a noose around my throat, suffocating me with each gruesome detail. I stormed in front of Pakstan and grab him by the throat. 'How the fvck did you let them take her? Where the fvck were you?" His guard moves to intervene, but Pakstan dismisses him with a wave. 'Not that I have to fvcking answer to you. They wouldn't have taken her if I were there. I was fighting one off, and when I turned around, they were carrying her and Aleksander into a van." 'Aleksander was taken too?" Laye's suspicious gaze shifted to Pharaoah and back to Pakstan. 'Why would they take a guard?" 'Fvck if I know." Pakstan brushes off the soldier fussing over his bleeding arm. 'In Pharaoah's place," Pharaoah pants, gripping the Albanian tightly. 'They took Sasha into my place." Sasha? Ah, right. The Italians and their nicknames—how they associate Sasha with Aleksander is a mystery. 'It still doesn't make sense why they'd take you or Aleksander," Laye says, eyeing me. 'They're usually after women." At his words, Nicolo's harrowing story resurfaces in my mind—the rape, the murder, the tapes—all too vivid. I instinctively loosen my grip on Pakstan. Bloody hell. 'He…" the guard in Pharaoah's grasp croaks, smiling through bloodied teeth. 'He looked like a woman, that guard…" "Fvck! Fvck!" Pharaoah roars, taking deep breaths. 'Listen to me, you cockroach. If you don't tell me where you took him, I will have you raped. I'll assault you with every object until I fvcking break you. Maybe then you'll know how it feels, yeah?" 'In the meantime, your girly guard's ass will be broken." Pharaoah swiftly grabs Laye's gun and points it at the Albanian's head. 'No." I sprint towards him, gripping his arm and whispering so only he can hear. 'He's our only lead. He's trying to provoke you into killing him." Pharaoah breathes heavily, face stone-cold. Instead of firing, he shoots the guard in the leg, blood splattering onto his glasses. The Albanian screams like a slaughtered chicken but soon resumes smirking. "Let me." I push Pharaoah back gently, wiping blood off his glasses with his shirt. The Albanian kneels, so I crouch in front of him, adopting a lighter tone to hide my rage. "Hey there, I'm the good cop among them. Pakstan here would snap your neck. Pharaoah would torture you to death, and Laye... well, you must have heard rumors about how he puts people in a white room and drives them crazy without laying a hand on them. So, aren't you lucky you got me?" 'She's... your wife, isn't she?" the Albanian taunts. 'The blonde beauty. I bet they can tear her apart in a day—" I drive my fist into his face, fighting the urge to end him then and there. With a slight smile, I continued in a controlled tone. "Focus. That wasn't my question. But since I'm the good cop, I have my methods." I wipe blood from his face. 'What's your name?" 'David." 'I bet that's not your real name. Don't worry; part of my good cop arsenal is I can take your picture, send it to my hackers, and get all your details back. Your real name, age, face if you had surgery. But that's not all. They'll also find out where you were born and how. In the gulags? Or were you ex-military before you came here? Did you go through the Eastern European circuits, steal here, and there? These things are all recorded, and then I'll find out about your family. Surely you have a sick mother and a house on a mountain, wait for your check to fight off cruel winters. Maybe you have a family or children you're hiding." 'So here's the thing, David. For every hair hurt on Rose head, you're going to watch that mother and woman of yours being raped and know you won't be able to save them until they spit their last breaths. Only then will I grant you death. How does that sound?" David stares between the four of us, probably searching for someone who'll tell me not to do this, but he's fallen among the wrong crowd. Pharaoah doesn't give a fvck about the methods we use as long as it gets things done. Pakstan would've come up with this idea himself, and Adrian…well, he stands still and expressionless, almost as if he doesn't care what's going on. I'm probably the only one who wouldn't use that option. Innocent women have nothing to do with this. However, I have to make him believe I would because, no matter how much they prefer this method, they wouldn't want it used against them. If anything, considering the horror they inflict, they know it will stab tenfold worse if it's directed at them. 'What's it going to be, David?" I wipe the blood from his face. When he says nothing, I stand to my feet, retrieve my phone, and direct it at him. 'Smile for the camera." 'N-no…I…will tell you," David whimpers. 'I'll tell you." 'Glad we agree." I glared down at him, my voice darkening. 'Now fvcking talk." As soon as he finishes giving information, and we make sure it's true, I shoot him between the eyes. Every second I go to her, she's in danger. With every second, they might hurt her in ways she can never come back from. I'll get Rose back. I have to, even if I have to resort to methods I've never used before.