I wake up to loud banging.
"Get up, sleeping beauty!" An officer I've never seen before yells, dragging a baton along the bars.
He walks in and pulls me to my feet. "Where the hell are you taking me?" He doesn't answer, instead, he throws me into a dimly lit interrogation room.
"Zdes' net uvazheniya, ne tak li?"
(No respect in this place, is there?)
I groan, throwing my head back. "Hey!" Someone bangs on the glass. "Only English!" They say as the officer ties me to the table.
"Pridurok."
(Dipshit.)
He walks out of the room, leaving me in silence for a few minutes.
Suddenly, there's a soft knock on the door. "What, am I supposed to say come in?" I groan, shifting in my seat.
A tall man in a gray suit with dark hair pulled back into a man bun walks in with a folder. The only thing that catches my eye is a silver watch on his wrist. "Hello, Yelena." He says politely.
I frown at the man as he sits down across the table from me. "Who are you?" I ask, rubbing a fresh cut on my neck. How'd the hell I get that?
"My name is James Underwood, and I have some questions for you." He says simply, shuffling his papers. "No, I have a question for you. Where am I?"
"You're in the downtown police department where we hold the suspected temporarily."
"Location?"
"You'll find out if you get outta here." A low chuckle escapes my mouth. "I think we both know why you're here. See, this station has a little conspiracy that you're associated with the Russian Mafia."
How did he find out anything? "Any evidence?"
"Why of course. You've been seen at almost every money heist, bank theft, and a couple of bombings in the area recently."
"Oh, so we are in New York then," I say with a smile. "Also, it's funny that you mention that because I am, in fact, associated with the R.O.M. and I have a team on the way right now." I tilt my head to the side with a sly smile.
He returns my smile and slides the first pictures across the table to me. "You mean this team? They were arrested this morning." The picture contains mugshots of three of my specialists.
"You'll pay for that," I say shortly, leaning back in my seat. "Of course, I will. Now onto more pressing matters. Why'd you do it?"
I frown. "Do what?"
I knew killing that client would catch up to me! At least I still got to drink his bottle of whiskey, that was good.
"Oh, don't play dumb!" He looks me in the eyes, trying to intimidate me. "Really? Do you need a reminder? Your brother, Andrei Borisyuk has been murdered."
What?
I looked up to Alexei more than anyone. He was my rock, my shoulder to cry on. Unfortunately for him, Alexei was the oldest child, so naturally the weight of the Mafia landed on him.
He didn't like the life he was born into, so he left. He moved on to better things; a good education and becoming a successful congressman. Ironic, right?
I wanted nothing more but to live a normal, happy life. But, unlike my big brother, I wasn't given the mercy he was.
With him gone, the weight of the mafia fell on me. I didn't like the life I had either, but his leaving angered my dad even more, and I felt the punishment.
Anyways, I hadn't seen him in years, and I never hated him enough to kill him for any amount of money.
"He was my brother, why do you think I did it?" He scoffs. "Please! All the evidence points to you!"
I stare at him for a few minutes, thinking of a solution. "I want a lawyer," I say, a small smile on my face.
"That's not how this works, Yelena. I know you've been hiding something. Something big, and I won't stop until I find it."
I let out a quiet laugh. As if he's going to find anything out about me. What he doesn't know, is I've planned everything out if I ever got into a situation like this.
I look at my reflection, counting down the seconds until my backup team breaks me out. Any second now.
"Look," I say, folding my hands. "I don't have any proof, so I guess you could go off my word. I didn't do it."
"Your word? Ha! You kill people for a living, and now I'm supposed to believe you didn't kill someone because of your word? You're pathetic."
"YA takoy zhalkiy, chto vam prishlos' nadet' na menya naruchniki i vyzvat' dvukh vzroslykh muzhchin s oruzhiyem, chtoby ubedit'sya, chto ya ne vyydu iz etoy komnaty."
(I'm so pathetic you had to put me in handcuffs and get two full-grown men with guns just bc to make sure I don't walk of out this room.)
I say, gesturing to the door. James lets out a low chuckle. Did I say something funny? "YA znayu russkiy, Yelena."
(I know Russian, Yelena.)
I hide my surprise, staying professional. Wasn't expecting that. However, that doesn't change a damn thing. I'm still going to break out of here.
I've never been in jail for longer than twenty-four hours, and that's not gonna change.
"Alright, Underwood. Time's up." Someone says from the other side of the glass. A loud buzzer sounds and the heavy door opens.
A man in heavy armor walks in and hands James a stick. He slowly walks towards me. "Now, since you don't want to talk, we're gonna have to make you."