Page 12 of Savage Mafia King

Her face lights up, clearly eager to talk about herself. "I am! My little boy is over there." She points to a lanky boy with the same shade of blonde hair. "He’s very serious about debate."

I nod, offering the usual pleasantries, though my mind is elsewhere. I’m on autopilot, engaging in small talk because that’s what’s expected of me. But the whole time, I’m watching Marie, silently willing her to do well, to feel supported.

When the debate begins, I take my seat, my eyes glued to Marie. She’s poised, articulate, and completely in control. I couldn’t be prouder. As the debate goes on, I find myself grinning like an idiot, clapping at the most inappropriate times, but I don’t care. For a brief moment, everything feels normal. She’s doing what she loves, and I’m here to cheer her on. That’s all that matters.

Her team wins, and there’s a reception afterward. Marie’s glowing with pride, her earlier nerves completely vanished. I know she’s a little disappointed that Dimitri couldn’t make it, but the win seems to have lifted her spirits.

As the event winds down, I glance at my watch. It’s getting late, and we need to head home. I tell Marie to gather her things whileI make my way to the coatroom. As I enter, the sight of a large figure looming in the corner makes my heart skip a beat.

"My wife told me you were here. Without your guards."

I freeze. The man turns, and recognition hits me like a punch to the gut. It’s one of them. One of the Russians who tried to kill us before Dimitri found us. The memories flood back, the terror, the desperation. But I force myself to stay calm. I can’t let him see my fear.

"They’re not far," I say, my voice steady, though my heart is racing. "They’re never far."

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, predatory. My fingers tighten around my phone, and I click the emergency button Dimitri had set up for me, a shortcut to summon the guards. I just need to stall.

"What if they found your body here?" His voice is low, menacing. "How long will it take them to arrive? It’ll only take a moment for me to snap your neck."

My pulse skyrockets as I back out of the coatroom, every nerve in my body screaming at me to run. But I don’t. I can’t. I can’t let him see me panic. My thoughts race—Dimitri will protect me. He promised. He’ll always protect me.

Just as the fear threatens to overtake me, three of our guards burst into the room, guns drawn. The Russian takes a step back, sneering, but his threat lingers in the air like a dark cloud.

"They won’t be able to protect you forever," he spits. "I can wait. I can wait for a long time, Elena."

I don’t have time to respond before one of the guards pulls the trigger. The sound is barely audible, thanks to the silencer,but the effect is immediate. The man crumples to the floor, a single bullet hole in the center of his forehead. I scream, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. I’m trembling, the adrenaline surging through my veins as the guards rush me out of the coatroom and into the waiting SUV.

Marie is already sitting inside, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. "Elena, what’s going on?"

I can barely think straight. My mind is reeling from what just happened, from how close I came to death. How closewecame to death.

I don’t know what to tell her. All I know is that I need to get us home. Back to Dimitri.

12

Dimitri

I can tell something’s wrong with Elena the moment we sit down for dinner. Her smile is too tight, her laughter forced. Marie is chattering on about her debate win, but Elena barely touches her food. Her hands tremble slightly when she reaches for her glass, and she’s been quiet—too quiet. Normally, she’s trying to engage, trying to please me, but tonight... tonight, she’s somewhere else.

I study her across the table, my gaze sharp, calculating. Something is off. The tension is radiating from her, but she hasn’t said a word. I keep my face neutral, unwilling to give away the storm brewing beneath the surface. Whatever this is, I’ll get it out of her. I’ll find out what’s bothering her because I’m not a man who allows secrets to fester in his house.

Dinner drags on, the conversation shallow, but I can’t focus. Not fully. My mind is already churning, already piecing together what could have happened. Marie’s oblivious, thankfully, too caught up in her own world to notice Elena’s strange behavior. But I notice. I always notice.

When dinner is finally over and Marie heads up to bed, I offer Elena my hand, as I always do. She hesitates—just for a second, but long enough for me to catch it. I feel the flicker of irritation rise inside me. She’s hiding something, and that’s not going to fly. Not with me.

"Come, my princess," I say, my voice calm, masking the growing storm inside. She takes my hand, and I lead her upstairs, every step thick with unspoken tension. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. I’ll get it out of her.

In the bedroom, I close the door behind us, shutting out the rest of the world. Just me and her now. I pull her close, pressing her against my chest, and kiss her like I always do—slow, deep, possessive. But something’s different tonight. She’s not melting into me like she usually does. Her body is stiff, her mind clearly elsewhere.

I push her gently onto the bed, my hands moving over her body, undressing her with a deliberate slowness. Normally, this is where she begins to respond, her breath hitching, her skin flushing under my touch. But tonight, there’s nothing. No heat. No desire. She’s distant, her body present, but her mind a thousand miles away.

I growl low in my throat, pausing, my fingers stilling on her bare skin. This isn’t right. I know her. I know how she feels when she’swithme, and this isn’t it.

“Elena.” My voice is sharp now, cutting through the quiet of the room. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer at first, her eyes darting away from mine, her lips trembling. I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Talk.”

She exhales shakily, and I see the fear flash in her eyes. That’s when I know—something happened. Something she hasn’t told me.

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