20. Demi #2
I unlock the door and step into the room. Malevsky is there in his customary black suit, but he isn’t alone. Four black-suited thugs, all armed, provide backup, in case I attack the pakhan with a machine gun and a grenade in my mouth. One of them is gripping Zara’s arm tightly.
I lock eyes with her and try to convey that I never wished her any harm. “Let her go. This has nothing to do with her.”
The thug releases Zara’s arm, and she joins Malevsky with a small smile on her face. The young woman who appeared so vulnerable earlier is gone, replaced by someone who knows their work here is done.
“I never had any intention of hurting my cousin, Ms. Payne.”
His cousin? She played me, and I was so desperate I bought it like it was a free sale at Tiffany’s.
“Do you not see the resemblance?” He turns his profile towards me. No? You genuinely believed she would risk her life to help you? For what? What can you offer her, Demi?”
“Just because you don’t understand kindness, it doesn’t mean that everyone else lives by the same gutter standards.”
“Wrong again.” He shakes his head as if my mistakes make him sad. “I do understand kindness. Why do you think I didn’t end your life when I killed Michael Douglas?”
I don’t bother replying.
“Unless you want me to watch while my men see if you are worth the asking price, I suggest you cross the room slowly and sit on the bed like a good girl.”
The room starts to spin as nausea crashes through me. “Asking price? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sit down, Ms. Payne! I will not tell you again.”
I believe him. I do as I’m told and sit on the bed, pulling the sheet up to my chin.
The bed dips when Malevsky sits on the end. I draw my legs towards me, the thought of him touching me making my flesh crawl. I can’t even face Zara.
“Auctions do not only exist for artwork and antiques, Demi. I expect you to make me a substantial sum of money, in fact, several bids are already much higher than I anticipated. It seems your police badge appeals to a certain type of buyer. I might consider making it my specialty in the future. My brand, if you like.”
“You kept me alive so you could sell me?” I almost choke on the fear crawling through me. “What happens when the buyer realizes he’s been duped and asks for his money back?”
He furrows his brow, and I keep going.
“Because if you think I’m fucking someone because they bought me, you’re living in la-la land.”
“You will have no choice.” His expression is so fucking smug I could punch him in the throat and risk getting shot by his goons.
Once the thought materializes, it gives me the clarity I’ve been missing since I first woke up in this room. I lunge at him, using the element of surprise to poke my middle and index fingers into his eyes and dig deep into his sockets.
Malevsky punches the side of my head, sending me sprawling across the room where I hit the wall side-on and crumple onto the floor.
The goons surround me; guns aimed directly at my head.
My head feels like someone dropped a bowling ball on it, and the right side of my face is throbbing. I’m scared to touch it, scared to speak in case my jaw is dislocated.
They didn’t shoot me, God-fucking-dammit! Why didn’t they kill me?
Malesky crouches in front of me, dabbing at his eyes with a bloody handkerchief. “Perhaps now you understand your predicament.”
I raise my eyes to him and do something I’ve never done before. I produce a glob of saliva and spit in his face.
He raises his fist to punch me again, and stops himself, probably because he could kill me with one blow and that would seriously fuck up his auction.
“Just so we’re clear,” he begins, “I do not care about you, Ms. Payne. I could have you buried alive somewhere you will never be found, and you would never enter my mind again. It would be as if you never existed.”
“So, why don’t you?” The words don’t sound right, but I’m not performing any diagnostics on my jaw right now.
“You are here to help me get revenge.”
Is he talking about Brian? My confuddled brain doesn’t know what to think anymore.
“Of course, it would be easy to kill Enzo Sabatelli, but that would bring me no joy, and he would never know the pain he caused my family.”
Enzo…
The video footage.
I slowly slot the pieces together like a jigsaw without a picture to follow.
I’m still confused though. Does he expect Enzo to buy me? How will that bring him closure?
“Enzo and I are over.” My own voice is muffled by the ringing in my ears like I’m wearing a motorcycle helmet. “He won’t give himself up for me.”
“He doesn’t have to. He will give up his brother instead.”
“Gio?” I think of Megan and the twins, and their spaniel Bella, and tears fill my eyes. “Why would he do that for me?”
“Because he is in love with you.”
“No.” I drag myself into a sitting position and fold my body in two against the wall. “We’re over.” I have to sound convincing, but it’s hard when everything hurts so badly.
“Remember Brian, Demi? Why do you think he came back, night after night, knowing he would get hurt in the process, but doing it anyway?”
“I don’t know…” I do know but I don’t want to hear it, so I cover my ears with my hands to tune him out.
Malevsky grips my wrists and lowers them. “He came because he loves you. Because, even with the masks, and the voice changers, he recognized the woman he loves, and he would’ve done anything to save you.”
“No. He thought I was Nyx. He came back for Nyx, not me.”
“So, now it’s time to reveal your identity.”
“Do what you want. Enzo will never choose me over his brother.”
“Let me show you something.”
He slides his phone from his pocket and taps the screen. I will never be able to erase the last image he showed me, but still, I can’t tear my eyes away from the device when he turns it around to show me.
It feels like I’ve been punched in the gut. I double over, retching onto the carpet, coughing up bile. It’s DI Goss. My old friend is dead too because of me.
Malevsky snatches the phone away and drops it back into his pocket. “Incendiary devices have been installed around Giovanni Sabatelli’s apartment. Unless you wish to be responsible for the deaths of their children, I suggest that you think of a way to Enzo Sabatelli’s heart. Quickly.”
“You fucking bastard…” He doesn’t care what I think of him, but I say it anyway.
If I refuse, he’ll sell me at auction or bury me alive depending on where his mood takes him, and he’ll destroy the Sabatellis anyway. But if I agree, I can at least warn them, give them a fighting chance to beat the Bratva like they did before.
I don’t care what happens to me. I’m doing this for Gio and his family.
At least, that’s what I tell myself when I say, “Okay, I’ll do it.”