Page 17 of Mafia King's Bride

A humorless laugh escapes me. He still thinks I’ll obey him. He thinks his threats will keep me in line.

Not a chance.

I take a step forward. “Try me. You’ve already done more than enough. It’s time you realized I’m not someone to be toyed with.”

His eyes darken as he stares me down, but I don’t flinch.

“If you do manage to leave without my guards stopping you, your father will pay the price,” he says quietly, his voice dripping with cold arrogance.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but they don’t scare me. They don’t break me. My father’s already been lost to me since the day I walked down the aisle. If Dmitri wants to chip away at whatever’s left of me, he’ll have to try harder.

“I hate you,” I whisper, my voice steady, devoid of emotion. “I regret the day I married you.”

Before he can respond, I turn on my heel and walk out of the house. I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here.

Anywhere is better than Dmitri Orlov.

SIX

DMITRI

“Dmitri Orlov,” Igor announces as he strides into my office, grinning like the fool he is.

I know exactly why he’s smiling. He’s just secured a deal usingmyname, thinking I wouldn’t catch on. But I did. Of course, I did. I let him believe he’s clever, though—it’s far more entertaining to watch him dig his own grave.

For now, I play along. I turn off my laptop and close the file on my desk before rising to meet him. “Let’s go to the conference room. The others are waiting.”

Igor’s grin falters just slightly. “You don’t look like a happy man, Dmitri. Trouble at home?”

I shoot him a sidelong glance, my voice cold. “Would you like trouble inyourhome, Igor?”

He chuckles nervously, his bravado faltering. “I didn’t mean to pry. Just concerned.”

“You don’t need to be concerned. You’re here for business, nothing else.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “Alexey and Bianchi are already seated, and your business is… lesser, compared to theirs. Let’s not waste more time. Time is money, Igor.”

“Lesser business?” He laughs, but it’s the laugh of a man who thinks he holds a trump card. He doesn’t. “I just secured a deal with—” He catches himself, barely, his mouth twitching. “Someone who’s promised to finance the opening of my casinos in Vegas.”

I let the bait dangle for a moment, pretending indifference. Casinos? Interesting, but not enough to engage just yet. If I stay quiet, his need for validation will have him spilling more.

“You know I never cared for gambling,” he continues, babbling on. “But the money in it? Hard to ignore. I’ll be opening six casinos in high-end areas. We’ll move products through them, of course, but the real profits are in the chips. Big money.”

I’ve heard enough. Igor doesn’t realize that I already know about his little deal. He doesn’t know that the previous owners of those casinos are brokering something far more lucrative—something I’ll be taking from under his nose before he even gets a whiff of it.

This is why he’ll never be more than a pawn. He’s loose-lipped, careless. He’s already part of the group that tried to steal from me, and no matter how long it takes, I’ll make every single one of them pay.

We enter the conference room. I survey the faces seated around the table—Igor, Alexey, Bianchi, Romanov, Peterson. Five men, each one carefully slotted into my plans for revenge. They don’t know it yet, but their time is coming.

“Thank you all for taking the time,” I say smoothly, taking my seat. “I know you have busy schedules.”

Alexey interrupts, always the disrespectful one. “We sure do. Couldn’t we have done this somewhere else? We don’t always need to come to your office. You could make the effort for a change.”

Under the table, my hand clenches into a fist, but I don’t let it show. Alexey has always been a thorn in my side, but histime will come. For now, I respond with a calm, almost mocking smile. “This is our third meeting, Alexey. If you didn’t want to be here, you could have declined. But I’m sure you’d prefer we convene at your place next time, right? What with your current…situationwith the Italian Mafia?”

Alexey’s face blanches, and the room goes silent.

“That’s right,” I continue, savoring the moment. “Word is, they’ve been pushing your men back, and now you’re scrambling to hold onto your territory. So, I understand if you’d want us at your place—it might make you look stronger, no?”

Everyone’s eyes shift to Alexey, watching as his face turns red with barely contained anger. “That’s not it,” he snaps, his voice rising. “I never asked for you to come to my territory. I just don’t see why we always meet here. You act like you’re better than us.”

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