Bronislav’s Mansion
Bronislav’s MansionMoscow, Russia
Moscow, RussiaPain radiated through Andrius Bronislav’s body as he walked through into his sitting room. Pain was something he understood, appreciated, and at time relished. He enjoyed giving it more than receiving it, but understood the value at times of necessity of pain to clear the mind.
“Your coffee, sir,” his manservant announced.
“On the table,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“Yes, sir.”
His manservant placed the tray on the end table next to his favorite chair and quietly exited the sitting room. Andrius stiffly walked to his chair and sank down, the scars from his injuries, created during his escape from Colin Coldhouse’s compound in Lithuania, protested after his intense workout.
He wasn’t angry. He was beyond anger a
