Vladimira sat at the head of the formal dining table, glaring bitterly at the man seated at the opposite end. Her guards had tied Joseph to the chair with rope, yet his body was already listing over to one side, his thinning gray hair askew, his eyes open and aware but unfocused. Yafon was seated to her right. His quiet presence soothed her vengeful soul.

“I decided it would be best to immobilize you so you would be forced to listen to what I have to say. Much like my brother, I’m not fond of repeating myself and I never tolerate being ignored. And I refuse to be marginalized because I’m a woman. This way, I have a captive audience and you have my full attention – whether you want it or not.”

She had injected him with Succinylcholine chloride to get things started. She was particularly fond of the drug because it left the victim fully conscious and sentient, yet immobilized and unable to do anything about it. It put her in control and Vladimira Glazov was all about control.

With effortless grace, she set her wine glass down on the table and looked over at Yafon. “I’m offended, Yafon,” she complained solemnly. “We have always been good to our employees. This man’s audacity…stealing from my brother…trying to undermine his business interests. It is something I do not understand. Bratva is a close-knit family. When you are family, you have each other’s back. But instead, this pitiful excuse for a man has stabbed the Pakhan in the back. It’s beyond my comprehension, such betrayal.”

She directed her attention back to the bookkeeper. “I’ll have you know I was supposed to leave this morning for America, but thanks to you, I had to delay my plans. I don’t like delays, especially when they involve tying up an annoying loose end. That’s what you are now, you know. A loose end. Less than human, really. A bothersome detail that the Pakhan has asked me to take care of personally.”

A slow, cruel smile curved her blood red lips in response to a slight flicker of emotion in his eyes. “What?” she scoffed. “Is that a surprise to you? It shouldn’t be. The Pakhan wants you made an example of and it is my pleasure to do so. You see, loose ends can cause such problems. I can’t have that.

“I’m not going to lie to you, bookkeeper,” she said with a sigh. She lifted her hand, tilting it this way and that as she admired the poison ring that never left her finger. “It’s going to be most unpleasant for you when you are buried alive in the diamond mine. It’s so dark down there, and the air is so still…until there isn’t any more air.”

A single tear rolled down the man’s slackened face, which only spurred her on. “You know the one, don’t you, Joseph?” she purred. “The one scheduled to be blown up tomorrow morning. Yes! I thought you’d know the one I’m talking about,” she exclaimed happily when more tears began their slow descent down his cheeks.

Suddenly, her smile vanished. Her eyes flashed with contempt, her voice was venomous. “The best you can hope for, bookkeeper, is that you’ll be dead by the time the whole thing blows. If by some miracle you’re still alive, well, I’m certain it will end quickly, if nothing else.

“I’ve given this a lot of thought. I think it is entirely fitting for you to die in the diamond mines; after all, that was how you chose to steal from the Pakhan.” She turned toward Yafon. “Don’t you think that’s fitting, love?”

“Yes. Blow him sky high. Leave nothing.”

But Vladimira had no intention of letting him die in the mine. Her original plan was to give him a final, lethal dose of the drug, which would have sent him off to sleep and eventually stopped his breathing -- much like euthanizing an animal. But the more she thought about it, she didn’t like that idea. It was too easy, too good for him.

Yes, she knew just the thing. She stood and shot a sidelong glance at Yafon, which garnered an arched eyebrow in return. She rounded the table until she reached Joseph, then she perched on the edge of the table. With a tilt of her chin, she directed Yafon to stand behind the bookkeeper’s chair.

“You know,” she said, “I don’t do this for just anybody. You have to earn this kind of special treatment.”

And with that, Yafon reached around Joseph’s head, clamped his hand over the man’s mouth, and pinched his nose closed. The drug kept Joseph from struggling even as his lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen, but it didn’t keep fear and desperation from flickering in his eyes. When the oxygen deprivation hit its peak and Joseph’s need for air was driven by pure instinct, she nodded at Yafon. Keeping her palm down, she opened the ring’s tiny storage compartment and held it just under Joseph’s nose.

She nodded to Yafon and he released his hold on the bookkeeper’s nose. With his mouth still covered, he had no choice but to inhale the toxic powder frantically through his nose. His face immediately flushed to a flaming red before darkening as the poison entered his system. A violent shudder wracked his body. His tongue rapidly swelled until it protruded grotesquely from his mouth. His head drooped onto his chest, his nose dusted with residue from the deadly powder. And with that, Joseph the Bookkeeper was no more.

She stepped away and turned to two beefy men who had been standing in a corner of the room, discreetly awaiting her command. “Lakov, Isaak. Get the body out of my house before things get messy. Seal it inside the mine at your convenience. The explosives will do the rest in the morning.”

Yafon kissed her cheek as he pulled her from the room. “Come, love, we have a plane to catch and a wedding to plan.”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“Ah, but we both know you will. Your brother has blessed the union already. And I intend to be very, very persuasive.”