Punishment

Klaus clenched his jaw after taking a long drink from the bottle while Peter stitched up his back, feeling his head pounding, he picked up the glass of ice and held it to his aching jaw, the light from the office getting irritating.

"Your father has quite an interesting parenting concept," the man murmured as the needle penetrated his skin, Klaus had sent for him after his father's visit, which evidently had not ended in good circumstances.

Mikhail Petrov was a large, imposing man, fifty-six years old, his dark, slightly graying hair cropped in a military style, a short beard concealing a pair of ancient scars, his eyes a stormy gray framed by two bushy brows and an frown that expressed nothing but hatred and superiority, he had been a member of Spetsnaz, a team of special forces, trained to kill and had seized power from the mafia more than thirty years ago, he had raised his children under the discipline and terror, training them all, Klaus had always been considered less fit by hi