Chapter Forty-one
Rodion
Florida’s heat clung to me before I even shut the car door.
This was the first Konstantinov base I ever worked at, the ground where I cut my teeth.
I knew the map of this city better than I knew my own veins.
Every street, every warehouse, every corner of shadow knew me.
The roots of our business here ran deep enough to shake the entire state.
Dmitri carried the weight of it now, or at least he liked to think he did.
No one expected me. The moment I stepped through the main gate, the men scattered. Workers suddenly found reasons to move faster than they ever meant to.
I stepped into the mansion, and Akim appeared from the side hall. He had Dmitri’s loyalty, but his bloodline tied back further. His father had once sat as a Konstantinov counselor. Old service still lingered in his eyes when he bowed.
“Boss.”
I didn’t break stride as I moved through the corridor, each step a reminder of who built this place. “The files I asked for never reached me,” I said.
“Dmitri—” Akim began, but that name was a mistake.
I stopped and turned to him. “You are forgetting who the boss is here.”
“My apologies. I will bring the laptop.”
I left him in the hall and pushed on toward the office.
The room felt different the moment I stepped inside. Dmitri had moved the desk and crowded the walls with more shelves—a cheap attempt at rewriting territory that was never his to claim.
I crossed to the desk and combed through the papers.
The table was stacked with business records, shipping manifests, and accounts full of names and numbers.
My fingers moved through them fast, the ink and signatures flashing by as I searched.
Drawers slid open and shut under my hand.
I wanted more than numbers. I was searching for proof of whispers, signs of who Luigi had fed and how much of our blood he had sold. But one drawer was locked.
The door burst open, the sound cracking through the office walls. I lifted my head and found Dmitri in the doorway, his shoulders squared and his eyes locked on me with disgust.
I pointed to the locked drawer. “Open every damn safe in this office.”
He stepped inside with a scoff. “You know what? Fuck this. Face me.”
My jaw clenched as I watched him. I had mapped a thousand ways to kill Luigi, each one colder than the last. But this wasn’t Luigi.
This was my brother. I could end him right now and erase every year we’d lived under the same roof, burn the secrets we’d carried against Father, tear up the bond we once called blood.
I stayed still. Violence would be easy. Deciding what came after was the part that cost the most.
He stopped in front of me. “What is this? This is my territory, and you don’t get to—”
The rest of his words dissolved when I drew my gun and pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed in the room, tearing through the drawer’s lock.
Wood and metal splintered apart. I yanked it open, and inside lay flash drives, tapes, and physical proofs stacked like evidence waiting to be judged. Exactly what I came for.
“I should have done it,” Dmitri spat. “I should have killed you like Father wanted.”
A knock interrupted, and the door eased open. Akim entered quickly, a laptop clutched in his hands. He crossed the room with his head lowered, setting it on the desk before turning to Dmitri.
“Sir—”
“Get out,” Dmitri snapped, his eyes never leaving mine.
Akim bowed and slipped out.
I plugged one flash drive into the laptop and tapped through the keys until a list of files filled the screen.
One video caught my eye, and I opened it.
The frame shook as if the camera had been handled in a rush.
Father lay on a hospital bed, his skin pale, his body hollowed out by his last days.
His lips parted to speak, but Dmitri slammed the laptop shut.
Heat surged through my blood. My fingers curled into a fist, and before thought caught up, I drove one into his face. The blow snapped his head back and sent him stumbling. He recovered fast and came at me, his punch cracking against my jaw.
“Admit you are sick!” he shouted.
I hammered another strike into him, faster this time, and followed with a kick that bent his leg. His knee buckled, and he went down hard. I stepped in and put my boot into his ribs.
He reached for my leg, but I forced him flat on the floor. I dropped onto him and drove my fists into his face. Each hit landed heavily. Blood splattered across my knuckles.
His hand shot up and clamped around my wrist, halting the next blow. His mouth twisted into a grin even as blood ran down his chin. “Kill me. Maybe Roman can take over when we both die, asshole.”
I tore against his grip and drew back my fist, aiming for his eye. My vision blurred for a second, and my breath came ragged as my fist hovered, shaking above him.
The room tilted at the edges of my sight. I shoved him back and stood. My legs felt heavier with every step. I reached the table and leaned my hands against it, shutting my eyes for a moment. The sickness gnawed at me from the inside.
I pulled the pill bottle from my pocket. The plastic clicked against my grip as I twisted the cap open. Pills scattered across the desk. I caught two, tossed them into my mouth, and swallowed them. The taste of blood still coated my tongue.
“Fuck.” Dmitri grunted. “You want the truth? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” He got up.
He circled the table, dropped into the chair, and opened a drawer. He pulled the papers, files, and drives and hurled them across to me.
“My mission is to kill you, and I will.” He leaned back, lips splitting into that bloody smirk of his. “You’re sick. Someone weak can’t rule Konstantinov.”
My glare fixed on him.
“But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I cleaned up, cleared the path, gave you space to find a fucking kidney.” He scoffed. “You had one job. One fucking job!”
“Who killed them?”
Dmitri chuckled. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Who. Did. It?” My teeth ground the words.
He sighed long and heavily. “Luigi did it. And if you want it spelled out, our father was the reason they were murdered.”
My chest tightened. “Don’t you dare play with me! He was dead.”
“He worked with Luigi, but he double-crossed him. Luigi gathered seven men for revenge. They went after Mother and our sister first, before I found him.” Dmitri rose, crossed to a side table, and grabbed a bottle.
He drank straight from it and dragged his eyes back to me.
“To get at his men, I had to use Luigi’s name. ”
He returned and planted himself back in the seat. His gaze sharpened. “You have the last man. And I’m losing patience.”
“You worked with Renat.”
His laugh was bitter. “So you figured it out. Is that why you killed him?” My silence was enough of an answer. He raised the bottle and took another sip. “I used Luigi’s name to flush out every mole. What was a better way to drag that bastard’s true colors into the light?”
The bottle landed on the table with a heavy thud. Dmitri leaned in, hands flat on the wood. “I’ll make one thing clear. I want the Bratva. And I’ll have it. Either you die, or I kill you.”
Our eyes locked. I scoffed. If he thought he knew me, he was mistaken.
“But I can see your sickness will do the job.” His grin slithered back. He lifted the bottle again, menace dripping from the chuckle that followed. “You can get out, Boss.”
I straightened with an exhale. “I found another reason to live.” The words cut between us as I slid my gun into my waistband. “You’ll have to take Florida from my hands. That’s if you can.”
I turned to the door, pulling out my phone and dialing Pavel as I walked down the silent hallway—the call connected.
“Boss.”
“Cut every source in Florida. We’ll supply through our own channels.” I instructed. Dmitri’s lifeline was mine now. “Get to the safe house.”
“Yes, boss.”
I pushed through the exit and found Akim outside, smoke curling from his cigarette as he lingered with my men near the car. They straightened the second they spotted me. Akim dipped his head in respect, but I walked past and slid into the back seat. The driver pulled out without a word.
My brothers had fattened themselves on pride, drunk on their own arrogance. They had forgotten who I was and how much one had to bleed to build the empire they flaunted. Until they remembered, I would strip them of every inch of ground.
With my kidney transplant lined up, they had no idea how long I planned to stay in the fight.
We drove to one of our city clubs. The upper floors held the offices.
But the ground level was business incarnate: casinos and private rooms where clients bought time with women.
Dmitri had run it clean, I would give him that.
He learned well from me. But he let his horns grow too long, forgetting the shadow he lived under.
The manager waited at the door. He greeted me as he opened it. I stepped inside the office and occupied the seat, set to work.
I buried myself in files, contracts, and ledgers, hunting through every partner, deal, and name worth remembering. Hours blurred into themselves. The deeper I sank into numbers and ink, the less I felt my body. The business was marred, and I was breaking it down to rebuild it stronger.
A sudden warmth flowed from my nose and struck the paper I was reading. Blood.
I tipped my head back and pinched the bridge of my nose. Pulling a handkerchief from my pocket, I pressed it against my nose and got up. I left the room and made my way to the bathroom.
I needed another dialysis to buy myself a week. Surgery was impossible while everything burned around me. There was no room for weakness now.
Splashing water over my face, the cold steadied me. I braced against the sink, chest dragging in short, ragged pulls. My body swayed, and in that blur I saw Alessia.
She clutched a breathing mask, her eyes glassed with tears as she urged me to take in some air. Fear made her tremble, like she was the one fading.
Her eyes, her smile, and the quiet strength she carried held me together when everything inside me threatened to split apart.
The rage inside me eased. My pulse leveled.
The chaos that owned me only a moment ago receded into silence.
When I opened my eyes, the mirror reflected a man who was still standing, though just barely.
For her, I would live. I promised myself that. The world would eat her alive without me. And Dmitri had given me another reason to stay breathing. I wanted him to try to take me down. I wanted to watch him fail.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Alessia’s number. She answered on the second ring, her voice bright, carrying that warmth that slipped beneath my guard. The thought of her smiling bled a reluctant grin onto my lips.
“You called,” she said, almost disbelieving, as if hearing from me was all she had wanted. I remembered that I’d promised to call. Calling her wasn’t for the promise. I did it because I needed her voice.
“Yes.” My hand raked through my hair. I only made business calls. This was different, and I had no damn idea where to begin.
“The amount of ice cream you got me is insane.” Her careless laugh carried through the phone. “I’m curious how you instructed the chef to do it.”
“It was simple.” My eyes stayed on the mirror. “Did they get all the flavors?”
“Yes. I have no idea if I’ll ever eat proper food again.”
“You said it’s a snack,” I replied, stepping out of the bathroom.
“I’ll try my best to respect that,” she chuckled. “Carina came over, and we went shopping. And my goodness, the guards are everywhere, making it obvious we’re guarded.”
“That’s good.”
“No, it’s not good. I…” she exhaled. “Only that I understand why I have to take them.”
“Good.”
Her laugh returned for a brief moment before the silence stretched between us. I was about to break it when she beat me to it, voice bubbling with excitement. “By the way, guess who called?”
I stepped back into the office. “Who?”
“The Meridian Group. I got an interview. Do you have any idea how huge that is?”
A smile edged onto my lips. Pavel had finally pulled the right strings.
“Should we celebrate?”
“Yes, we should. It’s huge. So yes, we will celebrate.” She paused for a second. “On our date, we will. When are you coming?”
“Tomorrow. You didn’t send the location.”
“I will. I made a reservation. And it might cost you a lot because … hm… well, you’ll find out tomorrow.”
My smile deepened. “Surprise me.”
She hummed, her tone shifting lower. “Did you meet him?”
My eyes fell back on the file on the table. A few names clawed at me, dragging the heat up my neck. “Yes.”
“What did he say?” she asked. I must have stayed quiet too long, because she asked again, “Are you busy?”
“Someone else killed them.”
“The real Luigi?”
I leaned back in the chair, letting out a breath. “Yes.”
“Okay, you will tell me everything tomorrow.”
“Alright. I need to finish work here if I have to make it for the date.”
“You wouldn’t dare miss,” she chuckled. “I’ll leave you to it then.”