9. Aiden
Chapter nine
Aiden
F uck, I don’t like this one bit. I should have never allowed them to take all our weapons. Now we are standing here defenseless, in a room filled with Russian gangsters, that look like they would like nothing more than to carve our hearts out of our chests, and slit our throats, or use our bones to pick their gold teeth with. I glance from the corner of my eye at Nicolo, who’s menacingly staring down one of the tattooed enforcers, who pushed us none too politely into this room, after taking our guns away, and making us sit in steel folding chairs. I take a peek around the room. It’s a sitting area of some kind, filled with rich cherry wood paneling, dark cognac-colored leather armchairs, and jade-painted walls, filled with ornate artworks of times long past in gilded golden frames. The mixtures of heavy cologne, tobacco, and death, are giving me a bloody headache and making my left eye twitch.
I turn my gaze away from all the muscle in the room, and spare a glimpse at Nico. Dammit all to hell! I know that look on his stupid , reckless face; he’s going to say something that’s going to end up with him swallowing most, if not all, of his pretty-boy teeth from someone’s giant fist. I am going to get banged up in the process, trying to defend his reckless ass, when really I should allow him to take a beating, since it might actually humble the stupid bastard. “Whatever is about to come out of your mouth, Nico, just fucking don’t, alright? I don’t feel like fucking dying here, far from my home, and surrounded by Russian cunts,” I mumble under my breath through clenched teeth. The idiot rolls his eyes at me and raises his hand, his middle finger pointed in the air, and scratches his cheek with it, while glaring at the Russians, who are watching us with stone-cold expressions. Ugh, so fucking immature. How did I allow this fool to lead me into this shit? I could have just gone to get Phoebe myself, if the bastard had given me the location of where she’s hiding, but no, Nicolo has to be an asshole, holding that information tighter than a catholic nun does her panties, and forcing my unwilling compliance. The truth is, I should have stabbed my best friend right after he sent me that video, and left Phoebe wherever the hell she is, because at least she’s free.
The door to the room opens, interrupting my self-loathing, and thoughts of murder, as another large Russian enters the space. I immediately notice the change amongst the original guards; they straighten their stances, their facial expressions masked, and colder still, as if they were now in the presence of a king. My sharp eyes take in the newcomer, and if I was already feeling anxiety, now I’m feeling pure dread. He walks with a swagger, much like I imagine Lucifer does in hell. Like he’s all-powerful, and knows he’s untouchable and indestructible. This is not some mere mortal gangster, this is a terror from one of your worst nightmares come to life, and his dark blues are trained on both of us. He sits in the large leather chair opposite us, his legs splayed wide, and his charcoal suit-encased body relaxed, as one of his men passes him a crystal tumbler with a clear drink, my money’s on there being top shelf Russian vodka in the glass. I take in his tattooed hand, with a polar bear crest, and various letters I can’t make out across his heavily silver-ringed fingers, as he brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip. The action reeks of a power move, showing us that we are not welcome guests, as no drinks have been offered to us. I know this man is in his sixties, but he doesn’t look it with his dark black hair and demeanor, and if I weren’t sure this was, in fact, the leader of the Mikhailov family, I would think we were meeting with one of his sons.
Unnerving silence fills the room as he makes us wait, and I can feel Nicolo shifting beside me in his discomfort and impatience. A part of me wants to wrap my fingers around his arm and force him to sit still, but I don’t make a single move, worried that it will trigger the mobster in front of us. Doesn’t the stupid fuck realize how much danger we are in right now? We are in the bear’s den, and he looks ready to tear us apart. He’s looking for a reason, even though he doesn’t need one, since we came here of our own free will. Once again, my mind shrieks that this is a mistake, that we should get the hell out of here, but it’s too late now. We’re trapped. Lambs to the fucking slaughter.
“You look nothing like your father, Nicolo Amato. That’s probably a blessing; he’s not a handsome man. If I remember correctly, your mother was a beautiful woman when I last saw her.” He winks in my direction with those words, and I have to clench my hands to prevent myself from reaching for Nicolo. The veiled insult doesn’t slip past Nicolo, and I feel him still instantly, his body tense. Fuck, the only thing more worrying than Nicolo acting like a three-year-old with ants in his pants, is when he goes deadly still, and is ready to attack. If he makes one wrong move here, our brains are going to be splattered all over the expensive hardwood floors and furniture. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting you or your kin before, Mr. Doyle, but I hear you put on excellent underground fights.” He takes another sip of his drink, the corner of his lip quirking upwards. “It’s very interesting to me to have an Italian and an Irish mobster, working together, and asking me for my permission to enter my territory, when their families are at war with each other.” Nicolo glances briefly at me before crossing his leg over his knee, and appearing completely relaxed. Meanwhile, my heart is pounding in my chest, and cold sweat is trickling down my back.
“Mr. Mikhailov, we are honored that you provided us the courtesy to meet with you. We did not wish to offend or impose on your hospitality. As my brother, Milano, discussed with Ronan, we seek only safe passage through your territory to retrieve a missing item. We will not be doing any business within your boundaries, and once we have retrieved it, we will leave immediately.” Nicolo stares at Dimitri calmly, but I see the signs of his rage, in the tightness of his eyes, and the way his jaw is clenched tightly. I need to defuse this now, or he’s likely to say something less polite next. “Sir, we appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with us in person. It’s an honor to meet the fearsome Dimitri Mikhailov, the leader of the Russian family.” I glance at Nicolo, and then away, meeting Dimitri’s curious gaze. “As Nicolo has mentioned, we are only here to retrieve something we lost, a person, not an item, and mean no disrespect. We will be in and out of your territory as soon as it has been retrieved. As for our family’s war, Nico and I have been best friends since we were children. The person that is missing interests both of us. We ask you, with all respect, if you could keep our appearance in your territory to yourself, as neither of us would like to escalate the situation between our respected families.”
“ Tell me whom you seek. Perhaps I have found them?” Dimitri leans forward and places the glass on the wooden coffee table before him. Fuck, I hope he has no idea that he’s had Phoebe in his territory this whole time. I doubt he realizes the prize that has been hiding just out of his reach. An Irish mafia princess, betrothed to an Italian crime family, would have been a hell of a bargaining chip.
“With all due respect, Dimitri, we would prefer to keep those details to ourselves, and we know exactly where she is,” Nicolo grumbles beside me, and I try to hide my reaction to his words. Fucking fool, he shared too much now. Why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut? A loud barking laugh leaves Dimitri, and his blue eyes crinkle at the sides. “A woman , huh? You both are risking your lives to retrieve a female. Interesting. She must be a hell of a catch if the two of you are willing, not only to die for her, but to lie to your families about your friendship, and whereabouts. Perhaps I should look closer into who his woman is. She may be of great value to me too?“ Dimitri’s eyebrow rises as he stares at us questioningly, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his dangerous head. He’s looking for a way to manipulate us, knowing we need safe passage through his lands, or he’ll easily kill us, and go to war with our respective families. The Irish are in no position to fight off the Russians, and as for the Amato family, they would be fighting a war on multiple fronts, causing them to stretch their resources thin, but I’ll bet all the money I have hidden away that Dimitri already knows that.
“She’s nothing, and no one worth spending your time and energy on. She is a thief who stole something precious from us, and we mean to get it back, and punish her for her actions. We ask you to look the other way on this, and are prepared to compensate you for your hospitality,” I calmly reply, even though my heart is thundering in my chest, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Fucking Nicolo is always draggi ng me into his messes. Phoebe is your mess too though. We need to get her back safely , my mind reminds me.
“Go on.” Dimitri cocks a dark brow, keeping his attention only on me. I nod my head in a sign of respect. “There is a car outside, loaded with AK - 47 assault rifles, and two hundred and fifty thousand dollars cash, for safe passage.“ Thank fuck I had shit hidden, in case of a tight spot like this one. Nicolo’s charming personality isn’t going to get us anywhere.
“I see, that is quite a tribute. It will buy you my safe passage, and my silence for now.” Dimitri turns away from me and stares at Nicolo. “You, however, will be joining us for a poker game between the families, Nicolo Amato. That will guarantee you both make it out of my territory, in the same state you arrived, plus your missing thief.” Dimitri stands and turns away from us, speaking in Russian to his men. I release the breath that I was holding as I awaited our fate. As Dimitri reaches the door, he turns back around and chuckles at us. “The buy-in is one million dollars, Mr. Amato. I suggest you call your older brother, Milano. My understanding is that he holds your purse strings. You won’t be leaving my hospitality if you don’t play.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, how the hell are we going to get our hands on a million dollars right now? Milano is going to kill all of us. I do not doubt that Dimitri means to comply with his threat. Phoebe’s face enters my mind, and it makes my throat feel tight with my rising emotions. I didn’t come all this way to get her, and ensure her safety, only to fail because this greedy Russian fuck can smell our desperation. “A million, huh? I’ll have my brother wire the money,” Nicolo states sedately, like a million dollars is a drop in the bucket for him, and he’s buying a pair of shoes instead of securing our lives. “Oh, and Dimitri, I don’t plan to lose.”
Jes us fuck, the balls on this asshole, baiting a deadly Russian bear. I swear if we make it out of this mess, I am going to put a bullet right between his eyes, for all the needle ss stress he’s putting me through.