Chương 3 - The Interrogation Room
The image on the monitor burned into Damian’s retinas.
The two-headed eagle was the mark of the Bratva, specifically the Volkov assassins who had just threatened his mother.
Damian’s chest tightened, the newfound respect instantly vaporizing into a cold, murderous rage.
He hit the intercom button on his desk, his voice a low, lethal growl.
"Paul. Get to Room 104. Bring the maid to the soundproof room in the basement."
He didn't wait for a response.
He drew the Glock 19 from his shoulder holster, checked the chamber, and walked out of the bunker.
Ten minutes later, Damian stood in the shadows of the basement interrogation room.
The room was entirely concrete, featuring only a single steel chair bolted to the floor beneath a harsh, swinging bulb.
The heavy door opened, and Paul shoved Tessa inside.
She stumbled, clutching her bleeding hand, which was wrapped in a cheap brown paper towel.
She looked around the terrifying room, her eyes wide with sudden panic, but she did not scream.
Damian stepped into the light, his tailored suit completely at odds with the violent setting.
He didn't speak.
He walked up to her, grabbed her injured wrist with brutal force, and shoved her sleeve up.
The black, two-headed eagle was stark against her pale skin.
"Who do you report to?" Damian asked, his voice deathly quiet.
Tessa winced in pain, trying to pull her arm back, but his grip was like iron.
"I don't report to anyone!" she cried out. "I just clean the rooms!"
Damian pressed the cold steel barrel of the Glock directly against the tattoo.
"You have the Volkov syndicate branded on your skin, and you managed to slip into the room of my vulnerable mother exactly when they declared war on me."
He cocked the hammer of the gun.
"I will ask you one last time. Are you the spotter for the hit squad?"
Tessa stared at the gun, her breathing ragged, tears of sheer terror welling in her eyes.
"I don't know what the Volkov syndicate is!" she screamed, her voice cracking.
"I got this tattoo when I was nineteen! It was a stupid mistake with an ex-boyfriend who thought it looked cool because he saw it in a movie!"
Damian searched her face, looking for the telltale signs of a trained operative lying under pressure.
Operatives maintained eye contact. They controlled their breathing.
Tessa was hyperventilating, her knees shaking so badly she could barely stand.
"What was the boyfriend's name?" Damian demanded.
"Ivan! Ivan Sokolov!" she sobbed, finally collapsing into the steel chair.
"He beat me, he took all my money, and he left me with this stupid mark!"
Damian slowly lowered the gun, his mind racing.
Ivan Sokolov was not a low-level thug who thought tattoos looked cool.
He was the brutal son of the Volkov boss, and he had a reputation for marking his victims.
If Tessa was telling the truth, she wasn't a spy.
She was a survivor who had unknowingly tangled with the deadliest man in the city before stumbling into Damian's house.
Before Damian could process this revelation, the heavy steel door of the interrogation room swung open violently.
A junior guard stood there, panting heavily, his face pale with panic.
"Boss," the guard gasped. "The perimeter alarm just triggered on the East Wing."
Damian's blood ran cold.
"Where?"
"Room 104. They breached the window."
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They had used Tessa's background check as a distraction, knowing Damian would pull his men off the floor to investigate her.
Damian bolted past the guard, sprinting up the basement stairs toward his mother's room.
