8. Dimitri
8
Dimitri
Dinner feels off tonight. There's a tension hanging in the air, thick and stifling, settling over the table like a suffocating fog. Marie, normally so chatty, is barely saying a word, and Elena—she doesn’t even try to engage. Her silence grates on my nerves. The both of them are sitting there, heads bowed, as if they’re afraid to speak. I won’t tolerate this in my house, at my dining table. This is my domain, and in here, we are supposed to be a family.
I drop my fork onto the plate with a loud clatter, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade. "Tell me what’s going on."
No response. They both sit there, still as statues, as if my words weren’t a direct order. My patience wears thin. I slam my fist onto the table, the sharp crack of it making Marie jump, her wide eyes snapping toward me. Elena gasps, her hand instinctively reaching for Marie’s.
"Tell me. Now." My voice is cold, sharp with the promise of consequences. "One of you better speak, or this won’t end well for either of you."
Sometimes, fear is the only tool that gets results. I don’t like to use it, but it works, and right now, I need answers. Slowly, Elena lifts her head, but she won’t meet my eyes. I can see her hesitance, her fear, but I’ve given her more than enough time to get used to her place here. She knows what I expect.
She glances at Marie, her hand covering hers protectively on the table, and finally speaks. "Marie thinks someone might have been following us on the way to her school this morning," she says in a rush. "But it was her first day. How could they know where we were going or that we’d even leave the house?"
I lean back in my chair, my appetite gone. So, that’s what this is about. Paranoia. Or maybe it’s not. In this world, nothing is ever truly safe. Not for long. These girls are becoming more trouble than I anticipated, but Enzo was clear—there’s money attached to her father’s estate, and I need to stay in this marriage if I want a piece of that. Walking away now would look suspicious, not just to the rest of the mafia families, but to my own men.
Still, Elena’s naivety grates on me. She’s lived in this world her entire life—how could her father not have prepared her better for the dangers that lurk around every corner? No wonder the Russians got to him so easily. If I don’t step up, I’ll be the next one they target, and I can’t afford to be taken down by a couple of scared girls.
I meet Elena’s gaze, my voice dropping into a cold, hard tone. "Elena, anyone can be waiting for you outside this house at any time. They’ll follow you, watch your patterns, waiting for the best moment to grab you."
Her eyes widen in shock, her naivety on full display. " Grab me ?"
"Yes." I don’t sugarcoat it. She needs to understand the stakes here. "As your father’s eldest daughter, and now as my wife, you’d be a valuable captive."
Marie, sitting beside her, trembles. Her small voice quivers as she asks, "Someone wants to take my sister?"
I turn my gaze to her, softening just slightly. Marie’s innocent in all this, dragged into a world far darker than she’ll ever be ready for. "Yes, a lot of people."
The tears well up in her eyes, and for a moment, something tugs at the edges of my conscience. I don’t like it when she cries. It stirs something in me, something I’m not used to. "You’re not gonna let that happen, are you, Dimitri? You’re going to protect her, right?"
Damn it. The crying always gets to me. I don’t know why, but it does. I sigh and soften my tone further. "Yes, Marie. I’m going to protect both of you."
Elena exhales, a sigh filled with relief, but also something else. I know she’s still afraid of me, and while I want her fear when it comes to outsiders, I don’t want it when it comes to me. I want her to trust me, to open up to me. I don’t want to break her—at least, not that way. If she’s going to be mine, fully mine, I need her to want it. And this exchange, this small display of fear from both of them, gives me an idea of how to get her there.
"John, Emile, Joey," I call out, my voice echoing in the dining room. "In here. Now."
Three of my men appear almost immediately. John, my head of security, stands tall and imposing, his arms crossed. Emile, my driver, looks alert as always, and Joey, John’s apprentice, watches everything with the sharp focus of someone ready to prove himself.
"Your new task is to keep Elena and Marie safe at all costs. If either of them leaves this house, even to roam the grounds, you are to be at their side. Stick to them like glue. If one hair is out of place when they return, it’ll be your ass. Am I understood?"
They answer in unison, their voices firm. "Yes, sir."
I turn to Marie, giving her a reassuring nod. "See? You’ll be fine. These men will protect you whenever you step foot out of this house."
Her small nod of gratitude sends a flicker of satisfaction through me. I may be doing this to secure my interests, but there’s something about knowing I’m the one keeping them safe. That I have the power to control their fates.
I pick up my fork and motion for them to continue eating. The food tastes bland in my mouth, my appetite still gone, but I force myself to swallow. I need to maintain appearances, even if this entire meal feels like a charade. The tension still lingers, but it’s different now—more familiar, more manageable.
"So, Marie," I say, turning my attention to her, "how was your first day?"
Marie lights up as she begins talking about her new school, her voice animated as she describes her teacher, the uniforms, the other students. I let her chatter on as I eat, keeping an eye on Elena. Her shoulders have relaxed, and a small, almost shy smile plays at the corner of her lips.
Good. Maybe my actions tonight are working. Maybe she’s starting to see me not just as a monster, but as her protector, her husband.
My pliant little princess. Soon, she’ll understand what that truly means. Soon, she’ll realize that submitting to me is the only way to survive.
And when she does, there will be no more fear, no more hesitation. She’ll be mine. Entirely mine.