76. -75-
Nina
The atmosphere in the car was heavy. Zyon sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through his phone, giving off murderous vibes.
A young black guy with a weird accent tried to start a conversation, but he shut him up with one glare.
I sat in the back with Dorian, who texted with Malin and laughed like crazy.
Obviously, he’d informed his brother about the incident in our house, and Malin’s reply?
Sunshine: Valeria will have his balls for dessert.
Dorian sent hearts to that text, closing the screen.
“I would love to be a fly in their bedroom tonight,” he whispered, grinning at the back of Zyon’s head. “But next time,” he turned to me, his smile fading, “don’t pull out guns before kids. A few months back, Zara regularly peed herself, and Aryna comes from an abusive household.”
“I know,” I breathed, guilt gripping my insides. “I lost my cool.”
“Happens a lot when it comes to me.” He winked at me, taking my hand. I scoffed, ignoring another of his remarks, and he went back to texting Malin.
Fifteen minutes later, the car stopped in front of an old building in the docks, and I got out, inhaling a salty smell of ocean mixed with dirt.
The place looked abandoned at first sight, but when I looked closer, I noticed cameras in strategic positions and two black SUVs parked across the street, watching the perimeter.
I followed Zyon and Dorian inside through the metal door.
The warehouse reeked of old oil and damp concrete.
Dust coated the abandoned crates stacked along the walls, while dirty puddles reflected the weak fluorescent lights flickering overhead.
Rusted chains hung from exposed beams, and somewhere in the darkness, water dripped steadily onto the cracked floor.
“You put my dad here?” I asked Dorian, who shrugged and opened another door for me. I rolled my eyes, pushing down the irritation that bubbled in my stomach.
The hallway stretched ahead of me, long and narrow, with bare concrete walls and weak lights buzzing overhead.
Only one cell sat at the very end, its heavy metal door standing open.
My father sat inside on a steel chair, his wrists chained to the armrests, dried blood staining his clothes and his curly hair stuck to his forehead.
He looked exhausted and filthy, but not beaten.
They hadn’t touched him, and the gunshot wound in his arm was neatly bandaged.
“Dad!” I hurried to him, meeting his bloodshot eyes. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, smiling weakly, but my chest burned with anger.
“Is this really necessary?” I pointed at the chains, but neither Dorian nor Zyon moved to unlock them.
“It’s fine, Nina,” Dad exhaled heavily. “Not my first time.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Let’s move to the matter at hand,” Zyon interrupted me, ignoring my glare. “What did Giovanni do, and what does it have to do with Carliles?”
Dad gulped, staring at Zyon, who towered over him in obvious fear.
My father survived the mafia his whole life with diplomacy and manipulation instead of bullets, but neither would help him here.
His only chance was to tell the truth. Otherwise, I worried not even my relationship with Dorian could save him.
“First,” Dad said after a pause, his voice trembling slightly, but he held Zyon’s stare. “What’s in it for me?”
Zyon lifted a brow, and Dorian chuckled. I slapped his arm, but he just grinned harder as if demanding something in return was the best joke ever.
“You do understand that without us,” Zyon pointed between Dorian and himself, “your daughter is completely fucked, right?”
“You do understand,” Dad mirrored Zyon’s tone, “that my daughter’s marriage to your brother dragged you into a war, right?” He sat up straighter, smirking. “And you don’t even know with whom.”
The silence stretched in the small room while Zyon and Dorian stared my father down.
“Can’t we just deal with it like adults?” I asked when the tension became unbearable, and no one wanted to give up an inch. “We’re in the same boat here.”
“Are we?” Dorian lifted a challenging brow. “He wanted you to marry a guy who beat you.”
“Beat you?” Dad looked at me, flabbergasted. “You didn’t make it up to escape the marriage?”
“Oh, Daaaad,” I groaned, hiding my face behind my palms. But it was a mistake because I didn’t manage to stop Dorian from breaking his nose.
A disgusting cracking sound filled the room, followed by a yelp in pain.
I stared in shock at my husband, who shook his bloody hand off as Zyon dragged him away.
“I’ll fucking kill the bastard,” Dorian hollered, kicking the metal door furiously. “You sold your daughter, you motherfucker!”
“Dorian, please.” I touched his shoulder, but he jolted away.
“Stop fucking protecting him already! Don’t you see what he’s doing?” He cupped my face, his intense gaze boring into me. “You’re just a bargaining chip, nothing more.”
Pressure built behind my eyes, but I still couldn’t let them kill him.
“He’s my father,” I whispered. “And there’s a reason behind all of this.”
Dorian let go of my face with a heavy exhale and turned his back on me.
“Speak, Lorenzo,” Zyon commanded, his voice slicing through the tension. “Or I’ll let my brother finish you off. I’m done playing nice.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line, stopping myself from intervening. Maybe I could persuade my dad to tell me the truth, but what if he tried to manipulate me again? I couldn’t just let him decide my fate because I cared for him.
“If you kill me,” Dad smiled, showing off his bloodied teeth, “you won’t know—”
The hard punch shut him up instantly. Zyon slammed the back of his gun against his cheek, and I turned away. A guttural groan and sounds of spitting came to me, but I refused to look at the scene even when it was breaking my heart.
“Speak,” Zyon growled. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I want… out,” Dad said, and I whipped my head toward him. A dark bruise formed on his cheekbone, swelling quickly. But I focused on his eyes. They were set on me. “A plane, a new identity… a new life.”
“What?” I breathed, blinking rapidly.
“Nina…” he paused, gulping audibly. “Nina can take over… the family. They will accept her.”
I looked at Dorian with my mouth hanging open. I didn’t know what to say.
“You want your daughter to lead the mob family at war?” Zyon rumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”
“I’m not that incompetent,” I interjected, fisting my palms so they stopped shaking. This was my chance to finally get what I was raised for. “I know what to do.”
“Theoretically,” Zyon retorted. “Practically, you have no idea how to get money flowing. You don’t have connections. He’ll leave you completely blind.”
Without thinking, I recited all ten companies that brought money to our family, plus three others that laundered it.
I told him that I knew where the cash was stashed, the safe combinations, and the security protocol.
I also had a notebook with numbers for my grandpa’s hitmen, including Dino and his crew.
“I’m not just a pretty face,” I stated confidently, knowing I’d impressed them, because Dorian stared at me as if he’d seen me for the first time, and Dad smiled proudly as if he deserved the credit. Only Zyon didn’t look convinced.
“Will your people respect you?” he asked, observing my face.
“With us backing her up?” Dorian rumbled, curling his arm around my waist possessively. “Who would dare not to? But.” He looked at me, his expression hardening. “I fucking hate it.”
“Why?” I raised a brow. “Because I’ll be the woman running a mafia family?”
“This again?” He shook his head, unimpressed. “It has nothing to do with you being a woman. It’s me,” he pointed his index finger at his chest, “a man who is shit scared that something bad happens to his wife.” He exhaled in resignation. “But if someone can pull it off, it’s you, ma vilaine.”
A wide grin stretched my lips, and I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. Scared or not, he trusted me enough to walk this path. I couldn’t ask for more.
“Cute,” Zyon interrupted our little moment. “Now back to business. We need the family to accept her.”
“They will,” Dad exhaled, glancing at me softly. “No one ever wanted me to lead. Giovanni did everything to present her as the true heir.”
“Why didn’t you let her then?” Zyon turned to him. “You claimed never to want the position, and if she is prepared… why stop her rise?”
Dad’s eyes met mine for a long, heavy moment. I saw the fight within him, the love he buried so deep I almost forgot about it.
“I wanted to protect you,” he whispered, blood from his broken nose dripping down his face. “What Giovanni did…” He trailed off, and Dorian groaned exasperatedly.
“Tell us already!” he yelled. “I’ll give you a new life and five million dollars right away! Just fucking talk!”
I turned to him, took his hand, and squeezed it gratefully.
“Where’s your patience, Doctor?” I teased, laughing at his annoyed expression before returning my attention to my father. “Talk, please. We need to know.”
“Do I have your word?” Dad looked Dorian dead in the eye. “You’ll protect her?”
“With my life,” Dorian replied without hesitation. I nuzzled against his side, his manly scent and the proximity of his body instantly calming me down.
“Giovanni borrowed money from a powerful group of people,” Dad started, fear contorting his face.
“They call themselves The Circle. They’re not a family or a cartel.
” His voice dropped to a whisper as if he worried someone might hear him talking about them.
“They’re a network. Politicians, judges, businessmen, bankers—people you see on television and shake hands with at charity dinners.
Respectable on the outside. Rotten underneath. ”
My stomach clenched.
“They protect each other. They buy information, bury investigations, make witnesses disappear. And money isn’t even their most valuable currency.” His jaw clenched. “Children are.”
My heart stopped momentarily, and Dorian’s arm clung to me tighter.
“Some are sold to people who want them for sex. Some disappear into illegal adoptions. Others are matched to buyers looking for organs. Whoever pays enough gets what they want, and the people running it make sure no one ever asks the right questions.”
For a moment, no one said a word. I swallowed thickly, trying to process the new information.
“What about the Carliles?” Zyon mumbled. I could see the gears in his head turning. “Do they belong to them?”
Dad nodded slowly.
“They lent Giovanni the most.”
“Great,” Dorian rumbled, letting go of me and taking a menacing step toward my dad. “So, you basically sold your daughter to a bunch of pedophiles and sex traffickers. Tell me again, why are you still breathing?”
“I…” Dad glanced at me sadly. “I’m sorry, Nina. I—”
“Oh, shut up,” Zyon cut him off. “If I only imagine someone doing this to Zara.” His hand instinctively went to his hip where his gun was. My breath hitched. Despite everything, I didn’t want them to kill Dad.
“It’s taken care of now, right?” I forced a smile at Dorian, whose raging eyes startled me. “I’m your wife.” I clutched his hand as if it were my lifeline. “They won’t touch me.”
“I don’t think you understand the true meaning of that deal.” Dad exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “They want the power and influence of the Valentino name.”
“But if we pay the debt—” Dorian mused, but was cut short.
“Don’t be na?ve, Dorian. Even if you give them four hundred million dollars, they won’t agree.” My heart skipped a beat at the amount. “They’ve been promised something much more val—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Dorian raised his hand to stop Dad from speaking. “Four hundred million dollars? Malin found sixty.”
“Cute.” Dad let out a humorless laugh. “Sixty was just the last loan. When Giovanni found out his plan to kill Zyon failed.” His eyes drifted to me.
“The marriage is worth four hundred million dollars. And what comes with it is priceless for their organization.” His brows twisted with concern.
“With Nina having the last name Zhumagulov, you’re at war, Zyon. One I’m not sure you can win.”