cool breeze brushed against his skin, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of expensive cigars and

make business deals with. Dmitry knew that he was feared, respected and even loved by his men. But he also knew that he

investment opportunities. Dmitry listened intently, his gaze steady and unwavering. He knew that each deal

oval and gave each man a reassuring smile, knowing that they would see this as a sign of his trust and faith in them. As Dmitry was interrogating one of the businessmen concern

t you need to tell me?” he asked sternly. The man hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the newfoun

clenched into fists as he fought to maintain his composure. “I want that man found and kept det

meeting continued without further interruption, but Dmitry could not focus on the deals and i

boarded his private jet, flying back home to New York. Once he arrived, he stepped out of the j

cold and assessing. Despite the fact that he was one of the most powerful men in the world, he could

car and he went inside. Andrei spoke up "Boss,

than to ask his boss's orders. The warehouse held the man they had been

is men, stationed at various points throughout the warehouse, bowed their heads in respect when they saw him. They led him down a long, narrow corridor to where the man was being held. Dmitry stood in front of the man who was tied to a chair. He was a

ut it was futile. There would be no escape for him now. "You disrespected what was mine," Dmitry hissed through clenched teeth. "You touche

his lips. Dmitry straightened up, as he smirked, his expression cruel. He glanced around the dimly lit room, taking in the grimy wall

chair, circling his pre

used for a moment, leaning in close to the older man's ear. "You think this is bad?"

dened even further as he realized what it was: a length of thick, black rope. Dmitry smiled coldly, his gray eyes

struggled fruitlessly against the bindings, his breath coming in ragged gasps. As Dmitry finished, he stepped

han to question his boss's orders, promptly handed him a small, silver pistol. Ta

red, and the man screamed in agony, h

were a prized possession. The man's leg was bleeding profusely, and he continued to writhe in pain. "But," Dm

-circle around them, their faces impassive as stone. With a cold smile, Dmitry raised the gun again and aimed it at the man's other leg. The

with sarcasm, "that's more like it." The older man's body was shaking with pain, his fa

g deeply. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he turned back to the older man. The man's eyes were wide with fea

ips, and pressed its cherry against the man's cheek. The m

The man screamed in agony, his voice hoarse from earlier cries. Dmitry circled him, studying his face, taking in every twitch and tremor.

used, considering his next move. He glanced at the man's bound hands and saw the go

tured to a group of thugs standing nearby, each holding a different tool of torture: kni

ed the older man, their grins cruel and hungry. The man screamed, his voice hoarse from pain and fear. Dmitry watched, amused, as h

. "Alright," he drawled, "let's wrap things up." He nodded at his men, who quickly finished their grisly work. They dragged the bloodied, broken bod

p." They nodded, silently moving to dispose of the evidence. Dmitry walked over to a nearby crate, sitting down heavily on it. He