Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

I spin around to see a man standing in the middle of my
kitchen, smiling at me.
He’s tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a black suit with a
black wool overcoat and black leather gloves. His hair is
gunmetal gray, shaved close to his head. His eyes are the
clearest blue I’ve ever seen.
The gun he’s pointing at me is enormous.
Over the line, Maxim says, “He’s very good at what he
does. Almost as good as Kazimir. If you cooperate with him, it
will be much better for you. It will go quicker.”
His voice lowers. “And believe me when I tell you that
you don’t want him to go slow.”
I drop the receiver.
Smiling pleasantly, Viktor gestures to one of the kitchen
chairs. “Sit down. Let’s have a chat.”
I’ve never been so terrified in my life. It’s not only the gun
pointed at me, or the phone call I just received, or the obvious
fact that the head of the Russian mafia has put out hits on me
and Kage both.
It’s also the smile on Viktor’s face.
That warm, eager smile, like he’s about to engage in one of
his favorite hobbies.
When I remain frozen in place, clutching the kitchen
counter and hyperventilating, Viktor says, “Sit down, Natalie,
or I’ll fuck your corpse after I’m done with you and send the
video to your parents.”
Hot and acidic, bile stings the back of my throat. I drag in
several breaths, but feel like my lungs are full of water. I think
I’m drowning.
When Viktor’s smile sours, I find the will to move and
throw myself into the nearest chair.
“Good. Now. Tell me where the money is.”
Sweating and trembling, I whisper, “The money?”