Page 32 of Fight

I walked through the door, each step taking me farther from the loud voices and music until I finally reached the room in the back.

A guard stood in front of it, and he looked at me for a moment as I looked at him.

I recognized him instantly.

He was the one who’d threatened to cut P’s eye out. He was also probably responsible for some of the bruises that marked her pretty face. Probably thought it made him something to hit her.

A moment of near blinding rage crashed through me.

Calmeaza-te, Ioan,I whispered in my head, saying those words like a mantra.

I could return to deal with him later, but if I didn’t stay calm and get what I’d come here for, P would have no future, and I certainly wouldn’t be around to see each of the bruises she had received returned.

“Is Markov in?” I asked blandly.

“Who wants to know?” the guard said.

“Ioan Cristi of Clan Petran,” I said.

He reacted, but I knew this was all for show. He waited a moment and then said, “Arms out. Legs apart.”

I did as I was told, keeping my thoughts and my anger to myself.

He patted me down quickly, haphazard in a way that Vasile, and indeed I, would never tolerate.

He glared at me, and I relaxed my expression, reminding myself to focus on the important matter at hand, and a moment later he opened the door and allowed me entry.

I walked in, found Markov surrounded by three women, who stood and sauntered out of the room the moment I entered.

When we were alone, he laughed, gave me a commiserating smile.

“After our business, I’ll have them come back if you’d like,” he said.

“Not necessary. I won’t be staying,” I replied.

“Ahh. You’re here on behalf of Clan Petran? Has Vasile finally seen the wisdom of deepening our relationship?” he asked.

My frustration and annoyance intensified, but I kept my focus on what was important.

Vasile wouldn’t work with Markov, which was a source of anger and shame on Markov’s part because he considered himself equal if not better. He knew that were Vasile to rethink his stance, he wouldn’t send me to deliver the message.

Beyond that, I knew that Anton had talked to Markov, so this was all for show, one that I was not interested in in the slightest.

But circumstances demanded I be, so I moved step-by-step, knowing that Markov’s approval was the only way I could earn the money to save P.

“I am not coming here on behalf of Vasile or Anton,” I said.

“Really?” he asked, lifting a brow.

“I owe you a debt,” I said, barely able to choke the words out.

He lowered his brows, attempting to convey confusion when his pure delight was so very apparent. “Ah, that. I was wondering if you would forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I replied.

There must’ve been something in my voice, for Markov flinched slightly, a reaction I couldn’t help but be amused by, though I kept that amusement to myself.

Besides, I hadn’t forgotten anything, the bruises on P’s face, the way she had stood so valiantly in front of Ciprian, probably knowing that her death was certain.

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