Chapter 7 I’m Just Not A Complete Dick
I’m Just Not A Complete Dick
Kai to Enzo: You alive? [delivered]
Kai
Back in my office, I boot up my computer and pull up the profile of Mikhail Petrov.
Russian Mafia involvement is bad. Way above my level of expertise. I need intel—someone who knows how these people operate.
Enzo Russo.
Ruthless, terrifying, and Carina’s closest friend. He’s the underboss of the Italian Mafia in New York, and if anyone has insight into Petrov, it’s him.
I don’t hesitate to call. He answers on the first ring.
“Kai,” he says, his tone amused. “This is a surprise.”
“Hey, man. Sorry for the random call. You busy?”
There’s a scuffle in the background, shouting, and then a gunshot.
“Nah, I’ve got time. What’s up?”
I blink. “Where are you?”
“Some club. Don’t worry about it. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Right… Well, what do you know about the Russian Mafia?”
He spits out a string of Italian, his disgust practically dripping through the phone. “Non parlarmi di quegli stronzi.1” He’s not a fan, clearly. “Why are you asking?”
“Because they broke into the flat of… a friend of Carina’s. I want to know why.”
There’s a pause, then: “Carina has another friend?” He sounds incredulous.
Carina met Enzo during her time in Italy when she was desperate to disappear. From what I’ve gathered, he took her under his wing, and they’ve been close ever since.
I first crossed paths with him after Nate killed his own father—then again when Carina was kidnapped by hers. (Let’s just say it was a memorable period in all our lives.) Over time, we developed a bond in the chaos, and now, surprisingly enough, I’d even call him a friend.
“Yes, asshole. Her name is Tess. She’s staying with me because her flat was compromised.”
He chuckles, low with a hint of mocking. “You like this girl?”
“What? No. She killed her boyfriend, I cleaned it up, and then someone trashed her place. I wasn’t going to leave her there alone.”
“So, you invited her into your sanctuary? The place no one goes?”
When he puts it like that, it sounds... intimate. But it’s not. I’m just not a complete dick.
“Can you help me or not?” I snap, grinding my teeth.
“Give me a name.”
“Mikhail Petrov.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“Enzo?”
“Ucciderò il bastardo2,” he growls, his voice laced with venom.
More gunfire erupts in the background, but I stay focused. While I wait for him to speak again, I open Tess’s file. Her picture stares back at me, all wide eyes and innocence. But I know better. She’s a killer. She murdered a man.
I’d do well to remember that.
“Petrov is one of our enemies,” Enzo finally says, his voice colder now. “If he’s going after Carina’s friends, then this is personal.”
“The boyfriend,” I say. “I’m wondering what his motive was for getting involved with her in the first place.”
“Why? You jealous?”
“Shut up. No.” (Yes.) “But he tried to kill her before she took him out. Now the Russians are after her? I want to know why.”
“Leave it with me. What’s her full name?”
“Tessa Sinclair. I’ll send you what I’ve got so far. Maybe you can dig up something on her biological parents, too.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“Appreciate it. What—”
A gunshot rings out, followed by Enzo’s shout, “Ow! Oh cazzo3!”
“Enzo?” My pulse quickens as the silence stretches too long.
“You fucking shot me!”
“Enzo!” I snap, my voice rising in concern.
“I gotta go. Some idiot just tried to kill me.”
“I wasn’t aiming for you, idioto4,” a woman’s voice sneers in the background.
“Enzo!”
“I’ll call you when I know more. Ciao!5” The line goes dead before I can say another word.
Knowing I won’t hear from him again tonight, and with nothing else left to research, I finally head to bed.
The house is silent as I move from my office to my room, the kind of quiet that tells me that Tess is asleep. I slow down as I approach her door. She’s right behind it, probably sprawled out, her hair a mess, breathing softly. The urge to go in is suffocating, clawing at my resolve.
I want to see her smile when I manage to string together more than a few words. I want to feel the warmth of her skin and the way her cheeks flush after I kiss her.
But I can’t.
Tess is chaos. She’s a hurricane, spinning through my life and tearing apart the order I’ve worked so hard to create.
Ever since my dad killed my mum, I’ve needed control. Over everything. Over everyone. If I lose control, I’m back there, in that house, trapped in those moments.
The sound of her screaming still lingers in my mind, the way she’d hit me so hard I’d black out, or press a cigarette to my skin until I could smell my own flesh burning.
She wasn’t always drunk, but it was worse when she was.
My father didn’t protect me. He didn’t protect himself. He just let it happen. Until he didn’t.
No one knew how bad it was—not even Nate. I hid the scars, the bruises, the shame. I was a boy being beaten by a woman, and that made me feel weak. Worthless.
I know better now. I was just a kid, too scrawny to fight back. That’s why I worked so hard to get bigger, to feel like I could protect myself. And it worked, mostly. I don’t think about her anymore. Or him.
It’s easier that way.
But Tess… she’s making me think about everything I’ve been running from. My home doesn’t feel like my own anymore. My sanctuary is gone, replaced by her chaos, her laughter, her reckless need to turn my world upside down.
And the worst part? I don’t think I want it back.