50. Dmitri
50
DMITRI
I follow Luca down a staircase hidden away from the main entertainment rooms and into what appears to be a bar room with leather lounging, a pool table, and a fully stocked bar in the back. Waiting are five white-masked men, each with a colored gem distinguishing them from one another— The hounds.
Anyone who gathers enough intel on Luca Armani or is unfortunate to have crossfire with him would no doubt be introduced to the hounds, notoriously known for being personal messengers when Luca didn’t care to deal with someone himself. I’ve always been curious about their system and identities since knowledge is power, but no matter how good my hacker, Claus, is, he’s never been able to grasp onto anything tangible.
I should feel threatened, or at the very least intimidated, as they warily watch me, but I don’t. If anything it’s a comfort to know that Luca’s most lethal form of security is here.
“The hounds will be with us on the day you meet with The Lion,” Luca says matter-of-factly as he leads me through the bar room and toward another door.
“I thought we agreed only I would be finishing this,” I grit out as I make a point to look at each of them, trying to uncover some kind of tell sign as to who they might be. I don’t find anything.
“I said you could fight him. I never agreed that I would fully depend on you to finish the job.” Luca says as one of the hounds opens the door. It’s a room that could be used for multiple purposes such as interrogating, torture, and, as it’s set now, an almost empty room. The few pieces of furniture it has, including a table and couch, have been pushed to the side to create space.
Luca shrugs his suit jacket off as he adds. “And it just so happens that we both have steam to blow off.”
I don’t know what he has issues with, but I wonder if it’s because a certain Ara Barone isn’t here currently. He’s most likely sulking because she’s made herself busy elsewhere, which is most likely why Lorenzo isn’t anywhere to be seen. Luca often has his second in charge escorting her nowadays.
“Are you sure you’re up for the fight without an audience this time?” I challenge, referring to our previous ring match. He made a point to show off in front of Ara, and he’d beaten me… barely. And I’d never openly admit that was the first time my body locked up on me, and I was acutely aware that something was wrong. The next day, I received my diagnosis.
I found it ironic that the moment I stepped into the ring with Luca, who embodies the Grim Reaper, those many months ago, I was humbled by my fall. To only discover afterward, as Layla took me to the hospital to check up on my concussion after I blacked out, that far worse was happening than a blow to the head. That I was, in fact, dying.
His blue eyes hit mine, and they possess a lethal edge as I remove my own shirt. My emotions are running on a high and although I don’t necessarily like Luca, I respect that he understands my need for an outlet. Because right now, I’m in a chaotic rage that will burn me out before I even come head-to-head with The Lion.
“Be careful not to bite the hand that feeds you,” Luca warns as he rolls up his dress shirt sleeves. I can sense the hounds behind us, watching us predatorily through the open door.
“You’re not the hand that feeds me,” I reply, flexing my hands back and forth, coaxing my adrenaline. The Lion was known for fighting with his bare hands, and often, others chose champions on their behalf. Most likely, all of the hounds offered to fight on Luca’s behalf, not that he needed anyone to do so. But this was my bloody revenge for the taking.
“Seems like you don’t have any loyalty. Not even to the woman you’re doing all of this for,” he goads.
The mention of Elanee snaps the tiny tether of restraint keeping my shit together. I lunge for him, aiming for his face. The moment I do, he steps back with a predatory smirk and dodges my punch.
He sidesteps and punches me in the stomach. I take it, keeling over when the wind knocks out of my lungs and savoring the pain.
“If you want me to pummel you so easily, I can. But you’re not worthy to challenge The Lion in three days if that’s the case,” Luca says as he steps away. I grit my teeth, furious with his sharp observation. Because he’s right, I want to take his hits. I want to feel the pain in the hope that it’ll obliterate these turbulent thoughts and emotions I don’t know what to do with. I don’t even know how to begin to manage the betrayal I feel so deeply.
I stagger back as I hold my stomach. Nothing is broken this time. “Don’t pretend like you know me.”
“I know men like you—a lost boy with lots of anger and nowhere to release it. The difference, however, is that you kill out of necessity. We kill for enjoyment.” Luca makes a point toward the hounds. “When you face your father, you’ll have to unleash any human restrictions you’ve ever had. You’ll have to become a monster to defeat him.”
I have many times before. I don’t need his condescending tone or lecture. I know he’s purposefully antagonizing me, and it’s fucking working because I lunge again. When he goes to dodge, I’m already in front of him and throw punch after punch after punch, unrelenting, until I back him against the wall. He’s blocking, the smile behind eerily creeping wider.
He breaks, and I stumble back, but not before kicking into his side. I can tell I got a good hit in, but it does little to move his position. My lip curves up, and I can’t help but start to enjoy the adrenaline coursing through my veins. That wild storm of emotion is still there but finally transmuting into something else.
Something I didn’t want Elanee to see entirely. A tiny flutter of guilt grows in the pit of my stomach for the way I spoke to her. It turns into wildfire as I think of her toes, the graphic mutilation coming to mind. Before I know it, I’m back on Luca, swinging fist after fist. Taking hit after hit and landing my own.
The Lion had taken everything from me. Even the woman I loved.
Even…
The numbing tingles slow the left side of my body.
Fuck.
My body is betraying me once again.
Luca takes the advantage, circling around me and slamming me headfirst into the wall. He holds me from behind, and a dangerous edge to his tone whispers into my ear. “Are you sure you can fight as a walking dead man? That’s the second time now you’ve glitched.”
My teeth grind together as I realize with sudden clarity that besides Layla knowing, there is one other person who knows my secret. Luca releases me, and it’s slow, but my body returns obediently.
“You know,” I say as I turn around to face him. Luca looks at me, mock offended.
“Intel is power, is it not? As I said, whether you finish the job or not, I will. But you’re going to die in the process with a body like that.”
My jaw clenches as he throws my shirt toward me. I catch it with ease, my body fulling cooperating now. I curse under my breath, pissed by my apparent weakness. “When did you figure it out?” I grit through my teeth. Because if he knew, who else might?
“I noticed the slight hesitation the first time we fought in the ring, so I did my own investigating. No matter how much you pay the best doctors, I can always pay a higher price. Or threaten their loved ones,” he says casually. “This only just confirmed it. You’re nothing but a wounded animal going into a fight, so might I make a suggestion? Before your fight, say your goodbyes. Because I doubt you’re making it out of this alive.”
I fist my shirt, pissed by the condescending tone he takes. Had it been only twelve months ago, everything else would’ve been different. But this is the only time I have now.
I know my chances in my current state might be slim against The Lion, but I promised I wouldn’t give up until I got Elanee out.
Guilt floods me in the way that I spoke to her and treated her.
It was only days ago that I told her I loved her, and now I’ve treated her less than dirt.
Why did I say all of those things to her?
Was that really how I felt? It feels murky, and I can’t recall all of the hurtful things I said, but I know it’s bad.
I hadn’t even realized I was lashing out. I’d only ever intended to make sure she was okay.
So why…
My fists bundle with a burning hatred toward myself.
Even if I blame my illness on this, I can never forgive myself for making her cry like that.
I’m swallowed into my self-loathing but try to push through it to focus on only one thing.
Killing The Lion.
What didn’t change was that I was still willing to die for her.