Chapter 66
Chapter sixty-six
Alisa
The weeks passed, and on the surface there appeared to be nothing to worry about.
Gemma had been whisked away to a safe house. Although she was already complaining about her grumpy bodyguard. The Pakhan was convinced the Italians had put Roman into a coma. Dmitri and I were still in one piece despite the increasingly dangerous missions that the Pakhan had begun sending us on.
So why did I feel like everything was one moment away from crumbling apart?
A patron at the end of the bar set his drink down a little too hard, and I immediately exited my spiral of worry to re-focus on the mission.
Across the room, Dmitri zoned in on the same noise. When he absently swiped at a new injury on his shoulder, nausea spun in my stomach.
I hated the matching bruises along his arms, but more than that I hated how he’d gotten them. Ever since the incident with Roman, he’d been obsessive about making sure I didn’t receive another injury on his watch.
Even at the detriment of his own health.
I didn’t want him to shoulder the burden alone, but that plea was disregarded the moment anyone looked in my direction halfway aggressively.
To my left, the target the Pakhan had assigned was finally finished slurping down his poisoned drink. With each sip we were one step closer to surviving the competition. Despite that, nagging dread pulsed faster through my veins.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to my target, keeping my voice level. “I need to use the bathroom.”
The older man shrugged, his attention already wandering to a busty brunette nearby me.
As I slipped through the bar, I could feel Dmitri’s gaze scorching across my skin. A large man stepped in front of me, and I frowned when he didn’t move out of the way.
When he slowly slid his shirtsleeve up his forearm, my pulse raced higher. Gemma’s now dead stalker had the exact same tattoo. He was from a rival organization: the Morozov Bratva.
The man smirked down at me, and I leveled a stare right back at him. Scenarios ran through my mind as he leaned into me.
“Alisa Solovyova,” the man said. “I have a proposition for you.”
I spied Dmitri weaving through the crowd towards us.
“Not interested.”
Unsure of his intentions, I leaned forward on my heels so I could dodge away if needed. Dmitri had been obsessively training me–and it was starting to feel like he’d never be satisfied with my results–but this man didn’t appear nearly as quick as Dmitri.
The mobster’s smirk deepened as he took in my tense body.
“I think you will be. After all, I’m offering you a way out of the Brotherhood.”
I forced my expression to appear blank. Dmitri’s words about the Pakhan testing our loyalty resounded in my head.
Still, doubt niggled in my brain that he would utilize enemy mobsters for loyalty tests.
“Still not interested,” I responded, moving to turn away.
His calloused fingers grazed my arm, and I flinched backwards.
“Your Pakhan’s competition is ending, and I’m not so sure you’ll survive it.” His gaze skimmed over me, and I hated the condescending look he speared me with. “If you hand over some information, I can make you disappear. You can have a regular life and live long enough to enjoy it.”
Dmitri’s shadow fell over me, and the mobster’s body went rigid. Dmitri’s presence soothed my mind, and for the first time since this mission had started I felt like I could breathe.
His warm arm brushed against mine, and the tension in my shoulders eased.
“You good, kitten?” he asked, only for my ears.
I nodded, and he focused back on the man. Quicker than I could follow, his hand snaked out and grabbed the gangster’s wrist.
Crack.
Dmitri’s casual brutality shouldn’t have surprised me at this point, but I still gaped at the sickening angle of the mobster’s wrist.
A deep-seated groan emitted from the man as he cradled his broken wrist to his chest. I cringed when I spied bone peeking through the skin, but from the blank, dark look in Dmitri’s eyes it was obvious he had no such qualms.
“You’re lucky you didn’t bruise her, or I would’ve broken your neck instead.”
The mobster opened his mouth like he was about to retort, or maybe even retaliate. When he met Dmitri’s dark gaze, goosebumps prickled on his skin. The man swallowed unsteadily before heading for the front door.
“You sure you’re okay?” Dmitri asked while guiding me to an exit in the back.
“I’m not the one with a broken wrist.”
I chanced a glance over my shoulder to make sure our target hadn’t seen the interaction. Relief bloomed through me when I deduced the target was too caught up in staring at a buxom brunette’s chest to even remember I was still here.
Dmitri shrugged. “When he touched you, you shrunk in on yourself. I’m already regretting not breaking each individual finger.”
Cold air whipped against my skin as we exited the bar without incident.
“But what I’m wondering,” Dmitri’s voice was completely casual as he opened my car door, but the tension in his shoulders set alarm bells off. “Is why someone from the Morozov Bratva was so desperate to talk to you.”
Of course the man’s tattoos hadn’t escaped his notice. Nothing did.
The mobster’s words thumped in my mind as Dmitri circled around the car and slid in. A life outside of the Bratva?
People who were born into the Brotherhood died in the Brotherhood. Even when my father beat me so hard my vision went white, I’d never fantasized about it.
I sunk further into the heated leather seat. Dmitri caressed his finger up and down my knee, waiting for my response.
“He made me an offer.”
“What kind of offer?” The blankness in Dmitri’s tone had me sitting up straighter.
“If I give them information, they’ll get me out of the Brotherhood.”
“Hmm.” Dmitri stroked a circle on my thigh, his face giving away nothing. “What did you say?”
“Not interested.”
Dmitri nodded, but the complete lack of expression on his face left me wriggling in my seat.
“What is it?” I said.
His finger stilled on my thigh. “Are you reconsidering?”
I grabbed his huge hand and laced his fingers between my own.
“Dmitri, I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere, and I meant it.”
“You better fucking not.” All niceties had been shed from his tone. His voice was now an animalistic growl. “If you ever leave, I’ll hunt you down, throw you over my shoulder, and haul you back to where you belong.”
Dmitri grabbed my chin roughly. His mouth slammed against mine, and his tongue swiped against my lips hungrily. I opened for him instinctively, enjoying the rough brushes of his tongue.
He dragged my body against his own, and needy sounds were my only answer to his insistent touch.
Dmitri pushed my underwear to the side, and roughly thrust his fingers inside.
Pleasure pulsed through me as he added in another finger.
A moan slipped through my lips. It went up an octave when he bit down hard on my neck.
An instant later, he pulled away from me and my insides pulsed against nothing.
“Why’d you stop?” I said, not even bothering to hide the whine in my voice.
I followed his furrowed gaze, and reality clapped against me, completely erasing my arousal. Our target was throwing up into a trash can.
Shit, the poison I’d slipped into his drink.
“I swear,” Dmitri muttered to himself. “When I’m with you, I forget anything else exists.”
Dmitri wasn’t alone in that feeling. Only when he was near me was I able to untangle that choking dread.
“Stay in the car. I’ll make sure it’s handled.” His tone brokered no room for argument.
Before I could tell him to be careful, the door slammed shut, and the darkness threatened to engulf me.