Becoming A Tech Tycoon Begins With Regression novel Chapter 56

Chapter 56: The Price of Betrayal

[Warning: This Chapter contains torture and if it’s something that triggers you, I’d advise you to skip, else, happy reading.]

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Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of water dripping was the first thing James heard when his heavy eyes opened.

It has been a day since his press conference and saying it hadn’t gone well would be a big understatement.

In order to gain the favor of this new, anonymous big wig, he had not so subtly dragged Nathaniel’s name through the mud just after admitting to the leaks.

He was sure that this would be enough to impress this anonymous person. He was sure that this person would bail him out of the coming consequences.

Oh, how wrong he was.

James expected to be contacted by this person again, after all, he had done his part of the deal.

But as the hours ticked past without any form of communication, that’s when the realization settled in.

He had just bit the hand that fed him for years, in a single moment of desperation. And this hand was a dangerous one.

Something he was about to be reminded of.

His eyes finally focused on the environment, revealing that he was in what looked like a warehouse.

The last thing he remembered was drinking in regret before passing out, so how had he gotten here. He tried moving only to realize that he was tightly bound by what seemed like chains on a metal chair.

"Oh, you’re awake," a heavily accented voice spoke up, causing James to look up.

Standing before him was a man as terrifying as the reaper himself, Dmitri Volkov.

His back was towards James but he was still recognizable even from this angle. Dmitri seemed to be sorting something out on the table before him so he couldn’t be bothered to turn around.

"I was wondering if I had to wake you myself," Dmitri added, his back still to James.

James pulled at the chains, but they were tightly bound around his wrists, ankles, and even across his chest. They rattled faintly, but offered no give. Panic began to swell in his chest and his breath started hitching.

"Dmitri..." James croaked, his voice hoarse. "This isn’t necessary. We can talk about this."

The Russian let out a soft, humorless chuckle as he picked up something from the table, a small, silver instrument that caught the dim overhead light.

He finally turned around, revealing his cold, predator’s eyes. On his hands were gloves and there was a faint splatter of something on them, either red or rust, James couldn’t tell.

"Talk?" Dmitri repeated, tilting his head. "James, my friend. We are talking."

He walked over slowly, every step deliberate, controlled. James felt like a mouse cornered by a panther. There was no room to run and no hole to squeeze into.

Dmitri crouched before him. "And worse... you thought you could break from us. That you were no longer useful."

James shook his head quickly. "I wasn’t trying to betray—"

"You were desperate," Dmitri cut in, his tone cmpletely calm. "Desperation makes people sloppy. It makes them weak. And weak men..."

He tapped the silver instrument, now clearly a scalpel, against James’s knee.

"...they break."

James flinched, sweat beading down his temple.

"I-I can fix this. I’ll retract the statement. I’ll blame it on stress. Say I was misquoted—"

Dmitri leaned in closer, so close James could feel the heat of his breath.

"You think this is about a statement?" he whispered. "You think Nathaniel cared what you said on camera?"

He pulled away, pacing in a slow circle around James now.

"The Langleys can make the media forget about your statement with the snap of a finger." He continued, the cold scalpel lightly grazing James’ neck and drawing a bit blood "this is about Nathaniel’s reputation."

James shivered as the cold bite of the scalpel traced a delicate line down his neck, that caused a sting, it was to remind him of how close he was to losing his life.

Dmitri stopped behind him. James couldn’t see him, but he could feel the man’s presence on his back.

Dmitri leaned in close again, his breath completely calm and composed. "You thought you were playing a game of kings and pawns. But you’re not a king, James. You’re barely even a pawn."

"Now, you’re going to tell me exactly who this new king was that made you so confident in betraying the old."

"I’ll tell you anything—just please, ask. I’ll talk, I swear." James stuttered out, the fear very much evident on his face.

Dmitri didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped back into James’s line of sight, holding the scalpel delicately between his fingers like a pen.

"Oh we’ll get to that," he murmured. "But first..."

Without warning, he drove the scalpel into James’s thigh.

James screamed, his body convulsing against the restraints. The metal chair scraped an inch across the concrete floor, chains rattling wildly as blood began to soak through his pants.

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