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“I don’t know if you expect me to say thank you,” I say under my breath as I walk past the security who’s having a cigarette with one of the women who frequents here.
“I would never expect you to say anything of the sort to any of us.” Is all he says. It catches me by surprise.
I look over my shoulder, pausing my next limp. I think better of asking, but it already falls from my lips. “Why did you help me?”
I’m more confused about a display of any type of kindness than having a gun to my head in there.
“I wouldn’t consider it help,” he says in a thick Russian accent. “I’ve been ordered to keep you alive until The Lion’s done with you personally. In my opinion, it’s crueler to not put you out of your misery.”
My throat locks up. I don’t know what to say. Of all the things, I especially don’t want this man’s pity.
“Of all the projects and games I’ve seen The Lion play before, he’s had the most enjoyment toying with his son. And then you. Quite honestly, I didn’t think you’d last this long.”
“You thought he would’ve killed me by now?” That wasn’t shocking to me. I thought I’d served my purpose as well.
“No. I thought you would’ve killed yourself,” he says matter of fact. A few splatters of rain hit my face, and he looks up through thick eyelashes. “I’ll see you again in one week; I recommend you catch a cab home tonight,” he says before closing the door behind him.
And I can’t escape his haunting words, which hit harder than anything he might’ve been able to say instead.
No. I thought you would’ve killed yourself.
23
DMITRI
Iwalk into Balmere, a club owned by Luca Armani. Last time I was here, I had my ass handed to me. This time, I come with a business proposition instead. I notice Layla in my peripheral working behind the bar but ignore her as security guides me to Luca, who is waiting in a booth that overlooks the intimate space. It mostly boasts a few gambling tables and women and men who dance in cages with masks. I smirk, impressed.
I didn’t have as much time to appreciate it last time because I was fixated on my need to release my pent-up rage. It’s not commonly known that Luca conducts his lucrative businesses on Friday nights. I know that because his now fiancée, Ara, told me so months ago. I never had a need to use that information to my advantage until now. And I was certain the only reason he’d decided to meet with me upon my return from Texas was because I messaged Ara instead.
I wasn’t beneath using his fiancée to get my way, like I’d done previously and would do many times over to gain his attention. An overly zealous man was an easy target, although it’s a gamble dealing with his unhinged side.
When Luca notices me approaching, he offers me a glass of whisky. He then offers me a cigar as he watches over his establishment as if still only giving me half his attention.
“You won’t be invited to the wedding, by the way,” he states flatly.
“But your fiancée is so fond of me,” I prod. His bodyguard, Lorenzo, who stands behind him, tries his hardest to hide the smirk.
His blue gaze is cutting, and I cock an arrogant smile. Despite this, I’m sure that Luca Armani likes me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be giving me the time of day to discuss business. I doubt many were willing to speak to him in such a manner. And had he entirely hated it, he would’ve tried to shoot me for it by now.
“What do you want, little outcast Bratva prince.”
My knuckles go white at the nickname only a few call me by—only those who are daring or stupid.
“A partnership.”
A cold, calculated chuckle tears through him. It’s unsettling as much as it is patronizing. “You might’ve been able to trick my fiancée into dealing with you and handing over one of her companies, but I will not be the same.” I already know that. “But by the fact that you’re here, I’m assuming that you’re desperate.”
True. But I was willing to make a deal with the devil to ensure Elanee’s safety, even if I had to sell my soul to the devil himself.
“I think you’ll have high regard for what I’m offering you,” I say nonchalantly.
He scoffs. “And why should I listen to The Lion’s son?”
“Because I think you and I know I have no interest in having any business with him besides being his executioner.”
He looks at me now with regard. The one commonality Luca and I share is that we’re both killers. We kill when necessary and especially when personal.
My body becomes heavier, and my mind is still sharp, but my eyes tired from the lack of sleep over the last few months. Not that I’d ever let anyone notice, especially the likes of Luca.
