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And healed by another.
56
DMITRI
Isit in the leather chair in my office and pour a glass of whisky while Elanee is preoccupied with her family. I was social for the first hour, but it quickly became tiresome and I excused myself under the pretense of needing rest. This was partly true, but it gave me time to address something I’d been avoiding.
I pull out the thick envelope sealed with The Lion’s emblem from the top drawer of my desk. I lean back into the chair as I slide the letter opener across it.
When I was in the hospital, a solicitor arrived on behalf of my father. It was a relief that during that time, Elanee had gone home to clean up, and Layla was with me instead. I didn’t want even the mention of his name around her ever again.
I begin to read the first page, a summary of his belongings. Rage boils in my blood as I read all the things he’d left behind, including the premise that whoever was to successfully murder him was entitled to everything and no member of the Bratva was to come after them. He was a sick fucker until the very end. All he wanted was a worthy opponent.
I almost split it in two as I read his conditions and gulp down the harsh whisky. Had this been what he was after all this time? Is this why he challenged so many people? To try and find someone who could beat him? To continuously fuel his narcissistic demeanor that he was a reigning champion.
I wanted nothing from him. Would accept nothing from him. Nor would I believe or even consider that I was something special to him.
The memory of him gurgling on his own blood comes to mind. I’m proud, he’d said.
The page tears, and there’s not much I can do to purge this rage. Even in the grave, he was fucking with me. But instead of fixating on it, I decide to let go of any meaning behind his words or actions.
I look back to the room Elanee is laughing in with her family. I’d let the past destroy us once; I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
The reality was also that he’d been sent here on a job from the Bratva, and he failed. Luca advised there had been no suspicion of retaliation since. If anything, taking out The Lion has only solidified the Armani’s position in New York.
I flick through the other pages and pause on the hand-written letter.
A lump lodges in my throat as I begin to read the letter that’s addressed to my mother: My beautiful Wife.
I outright almost rip it into two. How fucking dare he write her a letter. But I continue to read.
I don’t have many regrets in life, only that my lifestyle was too harsh for your innocent nature. I did love you as best as I could, which is why I set you free.
Never once did I stop thinking of you.
Never once did I remove our wedding ring.
But I respected your wish not to see you until the end.
Even now, wherever I end up—most likely hell.
I’ll be thinking of you.
Forever yours,
Your Lion.
I throw back the rest of the whisky, doing everything I can to remain in place so I don’t have an explosive reaction in front of Elanee’s family. It’s the only thing stopping me from doing so.
I stand and stare at the letter and the annunciation of my ‘new inheritance’. I throw them into the fire and watch the crescent burn. Be fucked that I was ever handing that letter over to my mother.
Even from the grave, the narcissistic prick was trying to toy with us. But it ends here with me.
I pull out my phone and call my mother. She answers on the third ring.
“Baby! How are you healing? Is everything okay?” she asks worriedly. Like everyone else, she was told it was an attempted robbery gone wrong. My grandfather didn’t believe it at all. Always an insightful prick. All he’d asked me was if it was over.
And I told him yes.
