Chapter 11
Dmitri
Once the oxy starts to kick in, Brendan is useless.
He’s staring at the ceiling when I leave.
But I got what I came for. He confirmed some of Cara’s claims.
That answers a few questions. Not enough.
Everyone knows that she’s the spy, and the Irish and the Bratva are still at odds. The Council wants Cara dead, and, eventually, I’ll run out of time and excuses to keep her alive.
They’ll send someone else to do it if I can’t.
I know I won’t be able to.
Despite everything, she’s still under my skin.
We just can’t be together.
No one will accept that, and we’ll get each other killed trying to defy them.
Brendan was right about one thing. Cara doesn’t deserve to die.
I need to figure something else out and do it fucking fast.
I won’t let her die because of me.
I don’t sleep that night. I kept thinking about Cara in the guest bedroom.
I bring her food. Water. I give her bathroom breaks, but I don’t stay.
Every day feels heavier.
It doesn’t help that my phone is blowing up. My men. Members of the Council. Other Bratva families.
All of them giving me reports or trying to tell me what to do.
The noise is overwhelming, and things only get worse when I get a text message from Artur telling me to meet him at a nearby brunch location.
He wants to talk. I want to put a bullet in his head for the attack on my shipment, for destroying Luca’s truck.
At least nobody was killed on Artur’s orders, unlike the Irish. Several of my men were hurt, though.
Without a word to Cara, because I still don’t know what to say just yet, I leave my penthouse and go to the place Artur picked out. I quickly spot him seated outside at a small table with a cup of coffee in front of him.
“Bold of you to invite me,” I say when I walk up to him. “After spilling my men’s blood.”
“A little blood from your men is the least you owed me. I didn’t want to ever see your face again except in an obituary, but the Council reached out to me.
They told me to give you one final chance before things…
escalate further,” Artur says as he peers up at me through his sunglasses.
He’s still vying for a vor position, which means making amends, and ensuring that all the members are happy with him.
I take a seat, only ordering a cup of coffee for myself when the waitress zips by. “I’m not surprised that they contacted you.”
“You were taking too long to contact me yourself,” Artur replies as he leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
Because I’m already over an alliance with the Suyunovs. I know what that means for me.
“I have a lot on my plate right now,” I tell him, falling silent for a moment while the waitress drops off my coffee. “You’ll have to give me more time.”
Artur scoffs at me. “More time? You don’t get to have more time. You’ve embarrassed me, Dmitri. Correct your mistake and let’s build the alliance that we originally planned.”
This is exactly what everyone wants me to do. They want me to suck it up, shake Artur’s hand, and marry his daughter. It’s so easy for them to pressure me to do it when it’s not their lives that are going to be impacted.
“I’m still not a hundred percent happy with the terms,” I reply before taking a sip of my coffee.
Artur places his fist on the table, anger etching across his face. “You mean the part where you marry my daughter? Why is that?”
“It’s a bad match,” I state in a flat voice.
“Annika’s humiliated,” Artur snaps. “You made her a joke.”
“She’ll recover,” I tell him. “We can renegotiate terms.”
Artur shakes his head. “My daughter is more important than the money. She deserves a man who can provide for her and make her happy.”
He’d burn the city for his daughter. But he’s a better father than Sean, I’ll give him that.
“She deserves better. It won’t be me.”
Artur scoffs. “What, are you trying to marry for love? You are a fool.”
No wonder he’s single and spending a shitload of his money on the dancers at his clubs.
“I can’t accept your offer if you don’t drop the marriage clause,” I tell him firmly, refusing to budge on that. I don’t care who it pisses off.
Artur grits his teeth. “I’m not dropping the marriage clause! Don’t be an idiot, Dmitri. Accept it and be done with this foolishness.”
I frown as I stare at him, not seeing anything but pain and frustration if I take his offer. Sure, the access to his businesses and the money will be great, but money isn’t everything.
“No. I’m sorry,” I reply as I stand from my seat and drop a few bills on the table to cover my coffee.
Artur slams his fist down on the table, rattling it. He’s incapable of internalizing his emotions. “You’ve just started a war you can’t win!”
His words make me uneasy, but I walk away from the restaurant, my heart pounding. What I just did will have even worse consequences than when I turned him down the first time. The Council gave me a chance to correct my mistake, and I made the same decision.
I don’t look back.
I keep walking around the city, not even knowing how much time has passed. I want to see Cara, but I still need to be smart in my interactions with her. I need to think about the big picture.
Things don’t look good for either of us right now.
It doesn’t take long for my phone to start blowing up once again, but the messages are worse than before.
Pavel Muratov: You have made yourself and your family an enemy of the Muratovs. You will be the downfall of the Bratva if you continue down this path that you’re on.
Victor Kardashev: You’ve already betrayed the Bratva by denying an alliance with the Suyunovs.
If you do not kill the spy and provide proof of her body within the next 48 hours, there will be hell to pay.
You do not want to cross us any more than you already have. This is your final warning, Ivanov.
Andrei: What the hell have you been up to, man? I’ve been hearing crazy shit! You need to call me.
Countless messages from other Bratva families. Threatening to wage war. Already waging war.
This is exactly what the Irish wanted. The Bratva to destroy itself.
Cara tipped the first domino. I pushed the rest.
I’m the one causing chaos, and the only way to stop the damage from getting worse is to sell my soul to Artur and kill the woman I love. It doesn’t matter if it’s fair. I still have to deal with it somehow.
My phone buzzes again, making me sigh and slow down to a stop at a street corner. Other people walk by me, living their own normal lives, while mine crumbles. A new message from an unknown number pops up on my screen.
It’s different from the rest.
We know that you have Cara. Release her alive, and we won’t kill any more of your men.
No signature. They don’t need one.
I breathe in deeply as I read the message again. The Irish have finally sent their warning.
I doubt that Sean is shaking in fear over his daughter’s disappearance, but he’ll still want her back for intel or to save face. She’s no good to them if she’s my prisoner. It makes him look weak. And honestly, Cara is a sitting duck if she remains in my custody for much longer.
I walk until the sun drops and the city lights come on, piecing my thoughts together to form a plan that’s stupid and will get me in even more hot water.
Even if I do obey the commands of the Council, they’ll still find a reason to oust me. They’ll claim that I’m not trustworthy or loyal enough to lead.
And where will that leave me?
My father would call this weakness. I push aside his disappointment that I’m about to lose everything he built.
Right now, I only have control over one thing: what I do with Cara.
The only move left is the one no one will expect.
When I head back to my penthouse, I stop outside in the hallway where Denis is keeping guard. “You don’t have to keep guard any longer. Go patrol our properties with the others.”
Denis frowns as he glances behind him at the front door. “What about her? You should have an extra guard in case she tries to escape.”
I meet his eyes. “That won’t be an issue for much longer.”
A look of realization crosses his face, prompting him to nod. “Yes, sir.”
I watch him head off down the hallway, my heart racing.
Tonight, it’s just me and Cara.
I’ll do what I need to do, and nothing will ever be the same again.