23. Dmitri
23
DMITRI
I walk 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.
“I have no need to concern myself with The Lion. He and the Bratva collectively haven’t stepped foot in New York for over twenty years.” Luca says casually, but I know he’s smarter than that. He’s not arrogant and wouldn’t leave anything to chance. He’s just fishing.
“And if I had knowledge of a shipment of goods, would you want to know about it?”
He watches me carefully. “Of what kind are you suggesting?”
“Sex trafficking, specifically.”
Luca’s upper lip curls. Because for all his faults and eagerness to build his empire, there was a particular line he hadn’t crossed.
“Does this by any chance have to do with Elanee Lane or the sister you have working behind my bar?” he asks. My jaw tics that he has this knowledge. He offers a pleased smile. “My fiancée does talk to me after all.”
I’d already accounted for that on a slight chance she might’ve noticed mine and Elanee’s involvement. I wasn’t expecting him to catch Layla out so soon, though. But he hadn’t made a move against her either.
“I hadn’t planned on doing anything unless necessary. I was curious as to what you were hoping to achieve from it.” Luca casually shrugs. “But still no promises. So, what do you want, and what are you willing to give in exchange?”
“I want to kill The Lion myself, but I can’t take on an entire Bratva army, especially with limited time,” I confess as I bring the whisky to my lips and take a sip. Lately, even drinking hasn’t helped my constant headache, and it does everything to ruin its taste.
“Big hopes and dreams.” Luca studies me carefully. His attention is drawn elsewhere. I turn around and see Ara approaching the bar. “Look at me, boy,” he growls, despite there only being four years between us. But I understand it now. That jealousy I mocked him before. If anyone so much looked in Elanee’s way, I’d crush them. And yet I felt like a traitor suggesting that when I can’t even protect her now.
“You know if we go into any form of partnership, you’ve as good as turned your back on the Bratva. You’ll not only be an outcast but a traitor.”
“I’ve been silently destroying his businesses here for years. I’ve never once had any intention of being a part of his empire or path.”
He leans back, considering me. It’s a gamble for him as much as it is for me. “This is an entirely different matter if I get involved, and I’m not quite convinced it’s worth it.”
“I’ll give you anything you want, though I doubt things like money do much for you.” He and I both had more money than we knew what to do with. No, to prove myself, he’d most likely have me get my hands dirty.
“Why is being in partnership with me so important to you? You’ve done just fine on your own so far. And if you really wanted, you could depend on your grandfather’s empire, which you run for him now. So why act so hastily? Why now?” he asks as he taps his cigar ash into an ashtray.
It was pointless lying to him.
“Because he has my woman. And I’m willing to make deals with the devil to get her back. I don’t have time anymore. Fingers. Hands. Heads. Whatever you need, I’ll get them for you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as if he might be so inclined to actually break a smile. That lethal edge from the fighting ring is coming to the forefront. And, like then, I still wasn’t scared of Luca Armani.
“Let me consider your proposition.” He adjusts his suit jacket as he goes to stand. “I’ll have someone reach out to you in a few days. Send me all the information you have.”
“A few days is too long,” I grit out.
“A few days is generous, considering I haven’t outright told you no. I like you, Dmitri, and I don’t like many, if at all. But I’m not going to start a war over one caged bird if I can’t profit from it.” He looks me up and down. “And I’m not a doctor, but I suggest you try to get some sleep sometime soon before I make my decision.” I stand with him and am caught off guard when my vision infringes on me, but I remain steady, only focusing on Luca.
Fuck. I can hardly stand. The left side of my body feels weak.
Luca dismisses himself as he walks up to the bar. I notice Ara eyeing me, most likely surprised to see me in her devil’s den. I also notice Layla’s watchful gaze as I focus on walking out, unable to shake my pounding headache and unfocused gaze.
The cool breeze is a welcome surprise when I step out. My driver opens the door and I do everything not to fall in the car. “Sir?” he asks, concerned.
I fist my hand repeatedly, hating to admit it to myself. Perhaps I’ve pushed myself too far. But I wasn’t willing to give up now. At the very least, I just needed to buy a little more time. “Take me to the Doc.”
I settle into the back of the car, taking a deep breath. My head is fucking pounding, and I try my best to ignore it as I pull out my phone. No message from Elanee.
I have, however, received one from Archer, the undercover security, whom I hired to watch her from afar. Someone who blends in and goes undetected and will be there to step in if ever needed. On top of that, I also placed a tracker in the necklace I’d gifted her.
A splitting pain goes up my jaw as I grind my teeth, seeing the photos sent to me. It’s her night of “check-in.” It takes everything in my power not to turn the car around and light everyone in that bar alive. But it doesn’t take her out of his web. And it’ll only impact his wrath tenfold on both her and my mother if I give in to the obvious temptation.
She was allowing herself to be bait, and I was useless, just as I had been for my mother. Everything was coming along too slowly. I send a message to Layla and then clear my throat to get my driver’s attention.
I look up and notice my driver staring back at me with concern, marring his features. I don’t know what I look like, but if everyone keeps looking at me like that, it sure as shit can’t be good. He quickly looks away, and my jaw locks into place.
That’s when I receive another text message from my snitch—an inside man willing to be bought out. It was because of him, I understood the operation of trafficking and could supply Luca with the evidence. But what he sends me now sets my blood ablaze.
I want to run to Elanee.
To protect her.
My hands bunch into fists as I scream at nothing and no one in particular.
She’d been hurt, and although her ankle had been attended to, she shouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place.
My driver says nothing as he pulls out onto the street.
Black and white blotch my sight, and I can do nothing but try to focus on my breathing and cling to consciousness as everything begins to fade to black. I was useless when it counted most.
I knew that I was about to do something reckless.
And one perpetrator will pay in blood.
I stare at the text and read the last sentence, grinding my jaw.
… suspect another business might be taking place. I’ll find out more.
The Lion was becoming bold if he was working two projects at once. But wouldn’t that make sense? Could that be the reason why he’s dropped Elanee in New York…
The Lion knows I’ll only focus on her.
It dawns on me then, that perhaps Elanee is only a distraction.
Because it would then allow The Lion to solidify his movements and dealings elsewhere, maybe the sex trafficking isn’t the only operation at play.
My knuckles turn white; I’m furious as I think of Elanee being used as entertainment to be laughed at all because my father put her there.
This will only end with his blood.
And despite my internal rage, I can barely stay conscious.