Page 47 of Dark Truths

“Gabriella and I are—”

“Friends,” I interrupt right away, just in case he thought to say something different. Now is not the time to cross that bridge or place a single foot on it either.

Dimitri thins his lips when he meets my pleading eyes. “Right. We’re…friends. She called me when they broke in, and I rushed over when I heard what was happening. But by the time I arrived, Patrick was gone, along with Rose and the baby. I took care of the men he left behind and then brought Gabriella and Enzo to the hospital.”

Dimitri glances back at me, and I give him a small and thankful smile. He acknowledges it with a subtle nod before he returns his eyes to my family.

“Enzo’s in surgery,” I announce, trying to rein these hot-headed fools back to what’s important right now. “He lost a lot of blood, but the doctors are confident he’ll be okay.”

“There’s more,” Dimitri continues, and I know he’s about to throw gasoline on a simmering fire. “Patrick plans on marrying Rose to Igor tonight at midnight at St. Paul’s Church.”

“And how the hell do you know that?”

My eyes zero in on the knife Michael flicks open and before he can try to bury it in Dimitri, I step in between the pair and hold my arms out like a barrier.

“Move,” Michael demands, his tone grave and his eyes just as deadly.

“No.” I know what our enemies call him and Raphael. The twin Grim Reapers. But his hot Italian anger doesn’t frighten me. It never has.

“Why are you protecting him? Because you’re fucking friends?” he hisses into my face, and I refuse to back down.

“No, you jackass,” I snap back, my own anger rising to the surface to greet him before a large, familiar, warm hand circles my wrist.

Michael’s eyes catch on the physical contact and he frowns. “Are the Russians behind this?”

“Unclear.” Really, Dimitri? Unclear? “I was with Sergei earlier this evening, and he mentioned nothing about his brother or O’Leary. If he knows something, he didn’t share it with me.”

Michael latches on to the annoyed laced anger in Dimitri’s tone and pokes the bear. “Trouble in paradise there, Volkov?”

The tension radiating from Dimitri washes over me like a series of ocean waves. Yet, he remains quiet and still—something I know is incredibly difficult for him. I’m sure he would love nothing more than to bury his fist in my brother’s smug face, and I honestly wouldn’t blame him. But everyone is on high alert and running hotter than normal. Like a tinderbox, one spark and everything will blow.

“So, how do you know where they went?” Michael asks, not really directing his question at either of us.

"Because Rose’s dad bragged about it before they left and I told Dimitri." I answer.

Michael steps back with a growl. “That bastard is not her dad. A dad doesn’t sell his daughter into the human sex trade when she’s no longer worth a dime to him.”

I lower my eyes. He’s right.That's not being a dad in the slightest.

“She told you?” My brother’s tone is a little softer this time.

“She told us everything tonight.” I can see the new fear circling his face now, the uncertainty that maybe Rose planned all of this in retaliation for how he overreacted at the house when she confessed her truth to him. He needs to know that’s not the case at all. He needs to know she’s the reason me and Enzo were alive when Dimitri arrived. “Michael, he was going to kill us if shedidn’t go with him. She doesn’t want to marry Igor. You know that, right?”

His shoulders fall, like he’s both defeated and relieved. “I know.”

“Midnight is in less than two hours,” Dimitri reminds us solemnly.

They prepare to leave, ordering me to stay at the hospital and wait for news on Enzo.

“You should probably stay too,” Michael directs to Dimitri. “You don’t want to be at that church tonight. I may mistake you for the enemy.”

I expect annoyance or anger in Dimitri's voice, but he just sounds tired instead. “I assure you, I am anything but that.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Michael turns to order a handful of men to stay and guard the hospital and me. A respect I’m sure doesn’t extend to Dimitri, but they will if I demand it. I’m still a DiAngelo after all.

Dad follows behind my brother before he pauses and turns back to us. “Volkov? Don’t think we won’t be having a conversation about how exactly you are friends with my daughter.”

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