Chapter 32
DANTE
“Is he awake?” I ask as I enter the fighting arena beneath Balmere. The club is closed, but even when it’s silent upstairs, no one would ever hear his screams. Much like no one is the wiser about the fights that occur down here—unless, of course, you're fortunate enough to be invited.
Andrei Popov is being held in a private room away from the arena because this undoubtedly is going to get messy.
“No, and he still looks near dead,” Sky says, swinging his leg back and forth as he hangs over the ring, watching me as I approach. Kage stands guarding the door, and Tyson is still on orders to remain inside until advised otherwise. “Did you get all patched up by the wifey?”
I can’t see Sky’s expression behind his mask, but I imagine he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. I don’t feel one bit guilty for arriving on her doorstep, bleeding, just so I can get a little attention. It’s the surest way I can tell that deep down, she cares about me.
It could be dangerous for me because I’m already considering a few extra wounds now and then might be a good idea. Nothing lethal, and never again something so embarrassing as being shot because I was caught in the crossfire. I still have some pride.
I flip him off and turn to Izak. “Have you found anything interesting?”
Izak casually lounges on one of the stadium chairs, typing away furiously.
They still wear their masks because we’re expecting a guest this morning. One whom I haven’t had the honor of personally meeting yet, but whom I’ve heard all about. Dmitri Volkov.
“I’m still looking,” Izak says. “Unlike his boss, Fyodor Novikov, this guy does not care about hiding his identity. He’s living his best life.
Well, he was.” He turns the screen so I can see it.
Random images of Popov in various locations.
Clubs, bars, libraries, and swimming pools.
The man truly had no concern about his identity being picked up.
“Came over on a flight a year ago. Has a dual citizenship.”
My eyebrows furrow. “Interesting. Can you see who he’s related to? Maybe his parents or siblings might lead us to more information.”
“Both parents are recorded as dead. His mother allegedly had a daughter at sixteen, but she was placed into the foster system, so she's a bit trickier to find.”
“But not impossible,” I remind him, already aware that he would’ve gone down every rabbit hole possible.
I’m looking for any type of string to follow, because unless this man tells me exactly what I need to hear, we’ll only be chasing our tails once again.
And I want this finished before Ara gives birth.
I’d promised Luca that, and I’ll keep to my word, especially now that he’ll be riding my ass for my involvement with Romi.
I won’t give her up, nor will I give up this position.
“I don’t even get a personal greeting anymore?” a man calls out from atop the stairs. I know who he is without an introduction. Dmitri is handsome, his hair shaved close to his scalp, showcasing the glaring scar after his brain surgery.
Dmitri Volkov is the closest person who could be considered a friend to the Armani family.
Luca wouldn’t put his neck out for many, but he did for Dmitri.
Then again, he also benefited from the deal.
The Lion was dead, and theoretically, that was meant to be the end of the Bratva in Luca's territory.
I also know that my brother worked closely with Dmitri, so I've grown curious about what kind of person he is.
He walks down the stairs and looks at me from head to toe. “You look like him.”
“The devil?”
He chuckles. “No, your brother. We’re close.”
Sky scoffs. “You’re as close to him as any of us, which is barely. Besides, we all know I’m the favorite.”
Izak speaks up. “You all have to really swallow the fact that unless it’s his work or woman, Lorenzo doesn’t give a shit about any of us.”
“I don’t take kindly to being compared to my brother,” I warn as I offer my hand to Dmitri in greeting. “Besides, I’m the prettier one.”
His smile stretches, and he accepts my hand. “I can already see how you grate on his nerves in the same way I do. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
I lead him toward the room as Sky and Izak warily watch Dmitri.
He’d once beaten Tony in this very fighting ring, which means he can fight.
Not a little Bratva outcast prince, as his nickname suggests.
But besides getting vengeance on his father, Dmitri mostly deals above board in high society amongst the very same circles my woman's mother surrounds herself with.
In fact, Elanee Lane is good friends with her.
Anything connected to Romi is of interest to me.
“You seem to be taking to the new role quite well,” Dmitri says.
Kage glares at him through his mask's eyeholes but makes no move toward him.
It’s bizarre the way that if anyone else were to walk into this room, my men would be waiting for the signal to kill the person for the slightest offense. But with Dmitri, it’s different. It's a reminder that there are some exceptions, even amongst our circle.
“My brother is stiff and archaic. Luca needed some fresh blood.”
Dmitri considers this. “I’m surprised. The two were attached at the hip. But you’ve certainly already created a reputation for yourself, Doc.”
“Now I’m curious as to what you’ve heard.”
The dim light hangs over the man bound to the metal bed. Andrei Popov is pale, near gray. His wrist and arm are heavily bandaged, and he has an IV attached to him. He’s sweating, and I walk over to dampen the cloth and inject more antibiotics into his IV line.
“What the fuck is this? Are you experimenting on him?” Dmitri’s eyes grow wide as he studies him curiously.
“Not yet,” I say with a wicked grin over my shoulder, and Dmitri really sees me now for the monster I am.
I’m not Lorenzo.
“He took a gunshot to the wrist. I won’t bore you with the details, but that’s pretty serious, and I’m keeping him alive long enough to extract answers.”
Dmitri’s eyebrows furrow as he gets a better look at the man. “I heard you were a surgeon. I became curious when they started calling you ’The Doc,’ but I suppose there’s truth to it after all.”
Almost a surgeon.
“I called you in to see if you can identify him—his name's Andrei Popov. I know you looked into The Lion's time here extensively, and I wanted to know what information you have on him and his followers. We’re trying to find someone else connected to this man. Someone in the business of moving weapons.”
Dmitri takes a good look at him. “No, I don’t know this man, and I know every single face in those files.
Trust me, I studied each of them profusely.
I’m sure it’s no secret to you that The Lion was my father.
Everything I have on him, I’ll send to you.
But I’m not familiar with this man. As for everyone else who remained loyal to The Lion here, Lorenzo and I worked together to flush them out.
You think a second group has risen in his honor? ”
“Not necessarily. We just need to make sure there aren’t any uprisings.”
Dmitri considers this. “If the Bratva truly were retaliating, their numbers would be great. My father had his own terms for coming to New York, and he made it very clear no one was to retaliate on his behalf if someone were able to best him.”
So, he’s implying that this might only be a small radical group.
Much like the one I slaughtered in Italy to draw their attention here.
Which was within my right, since they were working on Armani territory.
I consider if some of them have gone rogue or if the Bratva are testing out the waters and discarding them like pawns.
Either way, I’ll make sure this stops here.
“If you need anything else from me, let me know. I owe a great deal to the Armani family for keeping my Elanee safe.” His gaze softens at the mention of her.
Six months ago, I would’ve laughed at a man who softened at the mere mention of his woman, but I finally understand it. Having a woman to come home to every day is my new goal.
It’s then—in the gloomy, miserable room, with a half-dead man who is about to be tortured—that I decide I’m going to marry Romi Lutton.
I certainly know she’ll kick and scream all the way to the altar, so I’ll wait as patiently as I can for her.
I consider what type of ring she might like, giddy with the idea of buying one immediately.
The thought of my mother’s ring around Lily Taylor's finger comes to mind. Lorenzo had promised it to her, and despite hating my brother, I feel no claim toward the ring. I hardly recall my mother. I was too young to remember her. I’ve seen photos, but when I look at them, it’s like looking at a stranger.
As vindictive as I am, it’s something I won’t touch or try to bring ruin to in Lorenzo’s life.
It makes me uncomfortable to actively decide not to pursue something I know will both piss him off and hurt him.
Maybe I really am softening because of Romi.
Perhaps that hatred or desire to constantly bite at his ankles and wear him down doesn’t seem as thrilling anymore, because I only want to focus on her.
It’s all so strange.
“Are you in the business of publishing, Dmitri?”
“Like books?” he asks curiously.
Tyson shuffles back and forth, clearly impatient for Andrei to wake up.
“Yes. I’m currently staying with Romi Lutton, and she needs to publish some work immediately. Perhaps you know someone who can make fast arrangements?”
“Romi Lutton?” Dmitri says, sounding surprised. “She’s a friend of Elanee's. What are you doing living with her?” His expression suddenly clears, as if piecing something together, and he smirks. “I quite like you. Let me see what I can arrange.”
A groan escapes Andrei, and I grow excited as the man’s eyes slowly open.
Now the fun really begins.