Debase Read online Rachel Van Dyken (Elite Bratva Brotherhood #1)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Elite Bratva Brotherhood Series by Rachel Van Dyken
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
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A snail that looked completely harmless.

A puffer fish that was cute but, I knew, deadly.

And then a sleek looking fish that had a sharp fin.

“That one,” I pointed to the sleek fish. “What’s that?”

“Surgeon fish.” He grabbed a pair of metal tongs and a net. As he dipped the net into the water and scooped up the fish, he grabbed the tongs and clasped the fish as it flopped around. “Some say that its fins are as sharp as a scalpel.”

“Are they?”

“No.” He grinned. “Sharper.”

“So, you’re saying don’t touch it.”

“Exactly.”

He turned to Elena. “You like fishing, right Elena?”

She glared. “Protection for the names.”

“No,” he barked and then looked to me. “You see that bucket in the far corner? Can you fill it in the sink and bring it over?”

I located the yellow bucket, filled it in the sink next to the bathroom, and walked toward Elena.

“You his assistant or his whore?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Both.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, sweetheart. Soon you’ll be in this chair.”

“No. I won’t. He promised he’d kill me and make it quick if it ever came to that, so no, Elena, I won’t ever be in that chair.”

Her face turned a bright red as I dropped the bucket in front of her, water sloshed all over her jean-clad legs.

Andrei had a remote in his hand. The floor below the chair suddenly lowered, he slid the bucket under her dangling feet and dropped the fish in.

I watched in fascination as he pressed another button, bringing the bucket closer and closer to her feet while the fish swam around in agitated circles.

“Now.” Andrei cleared his throat. “I either leave you in here for an hour with this fish while he cuts your feet to tiny ribbons and bone, or you can tell me who’s sending the girls.”

“Your father’s son,” Elena spat. “You’ll have to do more than torture me with your freaky zoo.”

“This…” Andrei grinned. “I do for fun. I do for free. Because killing you is too easy, because slitting your throat is pretty painless, because I want to see how much blood of yours, I can spill. You’ll tell me because you value your life. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it while I can.”

“You’re sick!” she yelled. “Just like him!”

“You’re right about one thing.” He pressed the button until her feet dipped in the water, she let out a scream. “I am sick, but sorry to disappoint you, I’m nothing like him, I would never have fucked you.”

He pressed the button all the way.

The bucket went all the way up to her knees.

The water went from clear to crimson in seconds.

I couldn’t look away.

Andrei, however, yawned. “Names?”

“P-protection!” She shook in her seat as she tried to jerk her body free and kick over the bucket.

It seemed to just piss off the fish more.

Andrei reached for something on a shelf and then walked over to the bucket. “Good enough.” He reached the tongs in, put the fish away and then dumped what looked like an entire box of salt into the bucket.

I cringed.

She screamed so loud my ears rang.

I covered them briefly and then lowered them as tears ran down her cheeks. She looked ready to pass out.

“No?” Andrei sighed. “That’s too bad.”

He grabbed a bottle with a fine-tipped nozzle and squirted it down one arm in a circular motions as though writing something, and then did the same on the wooden plank floor.

“Last chance before you pass out,” Andrei said in a cold, detached voice.

“GO TO HELL!” she roared.

“Already living there. Even have a nice flat screen and king size bed, but your concern—” He grabbed a pack of matches from his pocket and lit a stick. “—is noted.”

He dropped it.

Instantly, the floor erupted in flames.

It was writing.

Petrov.

It didn’t touch her body.

He grabbed another match, lit it, and grabbed a bottle of vodka that was sitting near the bed.

“Give me a name,” he demanded.

She stared down at the floor.

He took a swig of alcohol and blew across the match, lighting her entire right arm on fire.

Amidst her screaming, he pressed a button, lowering the floor again. He grabbed the bucket filled with blood and salt, then dumped it over her burning flesh.

Her screams pierced the air.

It smelled like blood and alcohol.

Like salt and acid.

Like the fires of Hell.

He nodded to her arm. “So, you don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

And then he pointed to the floor. “So, you never forget who runs this family. I’ll be back tonight.”

Her teeth chattered and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she slumped in her seat.

She’d passed out from pain.

Covered in her own blood.

In salt.

And still smoking from where he’d set her on fire.

With a burned inscription on her arm.

Andrei.

A sick part of me was glad.

A sick part of me.

Was proud.


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