Chapter Eight
“What is this place?” Anastasia asked.
Dmitriy made his way toward the light switch and immediately brought the small house into illumination. He was not going to let them go in without coming up with a plan. “It’s another safe house.”
“I don’t understand. I thought we were going to get Nikolai.”
“We are, but I’m not going to do anything to put you at risk.”
“This is ... is this because I’m a woman?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes and turned toward her. “Have you ever killed a man? Have you ever been able to shoot a gun without a single provocation? How many men and women have you killed?” he asked. He just fired those questions at her. “What is your training? Can you take an attack?”
“You know I can’t,” she said.
“Exactly. You want me to take you into a potential war zone without any experience.” He reached out and cupped her face. “I never go without a plan, and if I do, it’s because I know the odds. I’m not going to put you in danger. It has nothing to do with your sex.”
And with that, he took possession of her lips and stepped back, putting the lock into place.
He hadn’t exactly worked on this safe house. It was a crumbling pile of ruins, but it had everything they needed—shelter, a place to rest, food, and the means to come up with a plan that didn’t mean certain death. Making his way to the kitchen, he went to the fridge.
He had a habit of stockpiling food, especially the kind with long shelf lifes. There were a lot of vacuum-packed meats and cheeses, ready for the time when he used the safe house.
This place didn’t have a lot of food, as he tended to use it as a last resort. Pulling out some meats, he went to the cupboards, grabbed a few cans of food, and quickly threw everything into a saucepan, bringing it to a boil as he grabbed a couple of bowls.
He let the water in the pipe run for a few minutes before he washed everything.
“You’re cooking food.”
“Are you hungry?”
She didn’t even have to answer that as her stomach started to rumble.
“I guess, I’m just not used to ... well, you know, being able to eat at a time like this.”
He chuckled. “It’s another thing you’ve got to learn.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“There’s no way I cannot be. If our theory is correct, Gnesin needs us alive. We don’t know if they have him drugged, if he’s even alive.” He shrugged.
“And you don’t care?” she asked.
Dmitriy looked down into the pot of chili. It was not going to be the greatest chili ever made, but it would fill a gap.
“You do realize if Gnesin is trapped, killed, or whatever the outcome, it could mean I killed a lot of people on the instructions of our enemies. Including your parents,” he said, and then he turned to look at her. He watched as she took a deep breath.
“I can live with that. Bad shit happens all the time. I was following orders, but I have to ask you, Anastasia, can you?”
She didn’t look away. “I don’t ... yes, I can.”
This made him frown and Anastasia went to him. She went to reach out for him, but then hesitated. She went again, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in close.
“Yes, I can handle that.”
At first, Dmitriy didn’t know what to do. His woman was holding him, comforting him, and in all his life, he had never been granted such affection. He had never experienced hugs in his life. Certainly not by his parents.
Seconds passed, and it could have been minutes, or even a lifetime, then he grabbed her, and pulled her in against him, and didn’t want to let her go. Not ever again. He pressed his face against her neck, breathing her in. She was his heaven. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.
And then, he heard her stomach rumble. He pulled away and looked into her blue eyes, and she offered him a smile. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” He reached out and touched her chin. “More than fine.”
The chili had been bubbling for a good five minutes, and it was starting to smell like it was about to catch. He didn’t want to eat crap food that was scorched, and he quickly pulled it off the stove. He gave it a stir, missing the bottom, and then dolloped it into the bowls.
Anastasia hadn’t left his side, and she reached for her bowl and followed him as they walked toward the table. The table itself was scratched.
“What is this place?”
“It’s an old abandoned house. For a long time, no one would come here because they thought it was haunted.”
“Was it?” Anastasia asked.
“No, a couple of people died, that was all.”
He saw her eyes had gotten wide. “Of old age. No paranormal activity. They had lived a long life together. Fallen in love when they were teenagers, no kids, no family, nothing to hand this down to. For a long time, it was left derelict and stuff. I purchased the land, which included the house, and I’ve been intending to fix it up, but it’s one of those projects I haven’t gotten around to. ”
“Fixing it up? Like you did with the cabin?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, Dmitriy Fedulov, you’re a real mystery to me. How did you become one of the most feared men in the Gnesin Bratva, with the title of Ghost Devil, and yet you’re able to rebuild cabins and have house décor plans?” she asked.
Dmitriy took a spoonful of his food, biting it but not really tasting it.
“After I took care of my parents, I trained. That is all I did, and I worked hard. Killing people doesn’t bother me, Anastasia.
I don’t care. I have no feelings about it.
People can scream, and it doesn’t affect me.
” He shrugged. “Working one job to another, Gnesin realized I had a gift—the ability to kill without it affecting me. So, he rewarded me. One reward after another, I learned what I needed. With the cabin, I knew I had to make it the way I wanted it, so I practiced, I learned. I never stop learning, and that is why I’m able to build what I need. ” It was all trial and error.
His parents had taught him to withstand pain. They didn’t have a clue that they were creating a monster. One that was going to destroy them, which is exactly what he did.
“Everything I put my mind to, I deal with.”
“Are you ever afraid?” she asked.
He looked up and saw real concern within her gaze.
“No, I’m not.”
She nibbled her lip. “Sometimes I feel fear.”
“I used to,” he said. “Not anymore.”
“I find it hard to believe you would be afraid.”
“We all feel fear, Anastasia. At some point.”
“When did you stop?” she asked.
“When the pain stopped mattering.” He shrugged. “It was the way I survived.”
He wasn’t going to tell her that the only time in recent years he had felt true fear was with her. The thought of losing her. The thought of someone having the power to take her away from him. He could not handle that level of loss.
She was his everything. And she didn’t even know the power she held over him.
****
Anastasia looked around the bedroom and saw true potential. Based on what Dmitriy had told her, she could imagine this being a loving home. It was sad to know the previous owners didn’t have any children or family to leave it to.
She could imagine they had put a lot of love into the room. The whole design was for people who loved this place. Each doorway was hand-carved. Even the few pieces of furniture, although covered with dust, looked handcrafted. It wasn’t what you would get in random shops or large furniture outlets.
Anastasia stood in the main bedroom. Dmitriy had left her some clothes on the bed, and she nibbled her lip.
Instead of putting on the clothes, she left the bedroom.
Ever since she had left her parents and the Bratva life, knowing there was always a risk that people could come to kill her, she had stopped dreaming.
There had been a short time, when she had thought about having a family and a life outside the Bratva, without the threat.
Over the years, she had watched normal families.
Some of them had been at parks, or in shops, or just on the street.
She had watched how normal they were. They didn’t have guards with guns.
There was no threat to their lives. Men were not chosen to marry the women.
She knew it wasn’t always sunshine and roses for everyone. There was real pain. Real trauma. But it was a life she had wanted and would fantasize about. She would watch movies and television shows, and it was like a craving she couldn’t let go.
When she first left her parents and was cast out, she had thought about seeking what she wanted.
Find a man, fall in love, have a family, have a new life, but she knew that being a Babkin came with too much risk.
There were too many players. If her family fucked up, she would still have to pay the price.
Stepping out of the bedroom, she made her way down the hall.
Being with Dmitriy was one of the only truly selfish things she had done.
She knew it was stupid of her to fall for this man.
He had killed her family, and maybe growing up, knowing death was happening, seeing it with her eyes, had warped her brain.
Her family had known the risks. Everyone did. They made their choice, just as she made hers.
She made her way to the main sitting room, where Dmitriy had several guns on the table. Even though she stood silent, observing him, it was like he knew someone was there, as he immediately turned to look at her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, frowning when he caught sight of her in only a towel.
This was stupid. There was a chance they were not going to survive the week.
If the Gambino family had somehow invaded Nikolai Gnesin’s home, there was only a matter of time before they were hunted down.
She and Dmitriy had also burnt her parents’ home to the ground.
This was going to add up, and someone would put it all together, and when that happened, whatever peace they had would be gone.
“I’m fine.” She gripped the knot of her towel and pulled it open.