Chapter 9
Dimitri Morozov
The meeting was pure fucking torture from the second I walked in.
My father had pulled me into the back room of one of our warehouses at dawn.
A bunch of uptight mafia pricks in suits sat around the long table, all of them acting like they were the most important bastards in the city.
They talked in circles about the Italians. Shipments had gone missing. Rumors of betrayal. Territory lines kept shifting.
I sat at the far end, boots kicked up on the chair across from me, smoking and wishing every last one of them would choke on their own words.
I hated every single person in that room. I hated their fake respect.
I hated the way they glanced at me like I was some reckless kid instead of the one who was supposed to run this empire one day.
The only person in the entire organization I actually gave a shit about was my grandfather, and he wasn’t here. He would have shut them all up with one look and told me to handle it my way.
But he was back in Russia, and I was stuck listening to this bullshit.
The meeting dragged on for hours. They argued about who to trust, who to cut off, how to send a message without starting an all-out war. I barely spoke.
I just smoked and stared at the ceiling until one of the older ones finally turned to me.
“Dimitri, what do you think we should do?”
I shrugged. “Kill them. End of story.”
A few of them chuckled like I was joking. My father didn’t. He just gave me that cold look he saved for when he was disappointed.
When the others finally filed out, my father stayed behind and shut the door.
“You didn’t speak up once in there,” he said. “You need to be smarter than this. You need to speak up. You need to show them you’re not just the muscle. You’re the one who’s going to run everything when I’m gone. Do you understand me?”
I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. “Yeah. I got it. Talk more. Be smarter. Message received.”
His face darkened.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, boy. This isn’t a game. Those men in there are watching every move you make. They’re waiting for any sign that you’re not ready. If you want to take over this empire, you act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who will.”
I stayed slouched in my chair, staring at him. “They were saying the same shit for two hours. Killing the traitors fixes it. Everything else is just stupid noise.”
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket and dropped it on the table in front of me.
“Names. Handle it. Clean as you can.”
Finally. Something I actually enjoyed.
I took the list without another word and left.
The kills were my favorite part of the day.
I handled them one by one in the old warehouse by the docks.
The first guy begged the second I walked in.
I broke his knees first, letting the bat do the work while he screamed.
Then his arms. Same treatment. I smoked between each break, thinking about Rei the whole time.
About how I had climbed through his window the night before, how he had looked dripping wet in that towel, cock hard and leaking while my finger circled that tight little hole he had kept untouched.
God damn.
By the time I finished the last name on the list, both men were bleeding out on the concrete. I cleaned up and decided to swing by Bloodburn the next morning. I had missed a whole day. I wanted to see if my fairy had worn the red flower again.
Imagine my fucking surprise.
I missed one single day because my father needed me in some bullshit meeting, and the next thing I knew, Rei had gotten into a fight. He had punched someone. Gotten himself suspended. Gotten scolded by that spineless principal.
I found Brad in the parking lot after the last bell, trying to look tough with his broken nose taped and two of his idiot friends flanking him. They scattered the second they saw me.
Smart.
Brad tried to run.
I caught him by the back of his jacket and slammed him face-first into the side of his own car.
The metal dented.
“W-wait… fuck, man, what the—”
I spun him around, pinned him with one forearm across his throat, and smiled while he struggled.
“You touched something that belongs to me,” I said calmly.
Brad’s eyes went wide.
Good.
He was starting to understand.
I broke his left arm first.
He screamed.
Then I moved to the right arm next, wrenching it behind his back until it broke.
Then the legs.
One at a time.
Knee to the side, boot to the shin, methodical.
He dropped to the ground sobbing, limbs bent at wrong angles, blood from his nose mixing with tears.
I crouched down beside him, lighting a cigarette while he cried.
“Next time you see Rei Kurosaki,” I said, exhaling smoke, “you crawl on whatever’s left of your broken body and apologize. And if you ever look at him again, if you even breathe in his direction, I’ll come back and finish what I started. Understand?”
He nodded frantically, snot and blood running down his face. I stood, crushed the cigarette under my boot, and walked away without looking back. Ilya could handle cleanup if needed. I had more important things to do.
The principal’s office was next.
The man nearly pissed himself when I walked in without knocking.
He knew the name.
Everyone in this city knew what Morozov meant.
“M-Mr. Morozov. I wasn’t expecting—”
“Rei Kurosaki,” I cut in. “Suspended. You are going to take that back.”
The principal swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Of course. I’ll… I’ll speak with the board immediately.”
I smiled, all teeth. “Good. And Principal Hargrove?” I leaned forward, planting both hands on his desk. “If I hear one more word about Rei being in trouble because of this, I’ll personally make sure your career ends in a very unpleasant way. We clear?”
He nodded so fast I thought his head might fall off. “Crystal clear.”
I left.
Then I pulled out my phone as I drove toward the Kurosaki house.
Dimitri:
Come out.
Little Fairy:
Why would I?
Dimitri:
Come out. Don’t make me come get you.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared. I could picture him in his room, probably pacing.
Little Fairy:
I am grounded so I can’t.
Grounded. The word tasted like shit in my mouth.
Someone else thought they had the right to cage him? Even if those people were his parents, I still didn’t like it.
Dimitri:
Come out or I’ll come inside and this time through the front door where your mom can see me.
No reply.
I waited.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
I crushed the cigarette and lit another.
Movement finally caught my eye.
But not through the front door.
He came around the side, probably using the back door.
Rei stopped a few feet away.
“What are you doing here? Are you insane!?”
My hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his jaw. I turned his head to one side, then the other, inspecting every inch. The streetlight caught the bruises clearly. He had faint purple along one cheekbone, a darker mark near the corner of his jaw.
Fucking hell.
I wanted to kill that motherfucker. I wanted to smash his face for this. Breaking his limbs wasn’t enough.
Not nearly enough.
I felt so angry, only this time it wasn’t for business. This was personal, and I never made anything personal.
“Does it hurt?”
His eyes flicked up to meet mine.
He seemed surprised.
He probably expected threats. Or expected me to mock him. Or maybe add to the bruises. Not ask such a careful question.
He swallowed against my fingers.
“No,” he said after a second. “It’s okay.”
My thumb dragged once across the edge of the bruise on his cheekbone. He was too fucking precious for marks that weren’t mine.
I wanted to kill everyone who had put these on him. Only my bruises should be on him. And definitely not on his face. His face was too cute for that.
“You can come back to school tomorrow.”
Rei blinked up at me, confused.
“I’m suspended,” he said.
“Not anymore.”
He stared at me. His mouth opened, then closed. He looked lost, but he was smart. He knew that the only person with the power to convince the principal to change his decision would be me.
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
I let my thumb drag once more across the edge of the bruise on his cheekbone before I dropped my hand.
“Who am I supposed to terrorize if you aren’t there?”
Rei’s eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched up.
Irritated. Amused. Both at once.
He glanced back toward the side of the house like he expected someone to come looking for him any second.
“I have to go back,” he muttered.
“Then go,” I said, releasing him.