Page 8 of Wrath

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“It’s what happens when people don’t do as they’re told,” he eventually said.

“Message received, loud and clear.”

“Has it, Misha? Has it been received? Because people are talking.” He stepped over the bloody body to get back to his desk. He unclipped his golden gun and placed it inside a drawer. “They are saying I let you get away with too much.” He retrieved a fresh handkerchief from the same drawer and wiped the splattered blood from his boyish face. “They say I am getting soft.”

Her blood turned to stone.

“Do you think I am getting soft, Misha?” he asked as he wiped, spreading the cloth around his jaw.

“No, Dimitri, I don’t.”

“So why do you allow your family to hire a man to protect them? From me.”

What? Hire a man?For a moment, guilt pricked her heart, and she felt terrible for neglecting her family over the past few weeks, but… she’d needed a break, damn it. “I-uh... I didn’t know.”

He stared at her again with those busy empty eyes, and then he poured Scotch into two glasses with an elaborate sigh. “Misha, it’s good to see you. Please sit.”

“Yes, it has been a few weeks.”

When she didn’t move to climb over the moaning man, he gave a pointed look at the vacant chair next to the grotesquely filled one.

“Um.” The man was really injured. Oh God, maybe he was going to end up snake food. “Shouldn’t someone...”

Dimitri pressed a button on his desktop intercom. “Please remove Mr. Douglas. I am done with him for now.”

Two-seconds later, the door opened to Petyr’s stern face. He flicked a glance at Misha, then dragged Mr. Douglas out. His body had gone floppy.

Misha sat down on the maroon leather chair with wooden handles and tried not to wince at the cold seeping through her yoga pants. Was it just the temperature, or was it blood?

When Dimitri leaned back in his chair, eyes like two beads of black coal, she knew she wouldn’t like what happened next. He liked to play games, to make her do weird things, just because he could. She’d learned a long time ago, that it was safest to just do as she was told.

He sucked his teeth, eyes narrowed. “You will wear the devil outfit tonight, I think. It is appropriate, no?”

She nodded briefly and kept her eyes downcast. When he said nothing else, she lifted her gaze. He’d turned on the two CCTV monitors on his desk and occupied himself with the footage of his club opening. He removed a ledger book from his second drawer and opened it. Occasionally he would flick his eyes to the screens, and then back to the book, no doubt sizing up who owed him what. It was a few minutes before he spoke again.

“You have not had a drink, Misha. It is rude.”

She eyed the glass. Okay. It was this game. The “Puppet” game. Wear what I tell you, drink what I tell you, do what I tell you… A trickle of fear lifted into her gullet and she pushed it down with a sip of Scotch. Then she put the glass down.There. You got what you wanted.

His eyes flashed with pleasure and then went back to his screens. “You say you knew nothing of the man your parents hired. When was the last time you spoke with your family?”

“Um.” Her mouth went dry as she lied. “It’s been a few weeks.”

“You know this man put two of my men in the hospital.”

“No. I didn’t know.”

Dimitri steepled his fingers as he studied her. “This man is working in your family restaurant, and he refuses to pay us protection money.”

Could he be speaking about the chef? Had her father found a solution to their “protection” problem without consulting her? She guessed she shouldn’t really be surprised. He knew nothing of her arrangement with Dimitri, and that’s the way she wanted to keep it. Her family were innocent to the dark reality of this world.

“I’m sorry, this is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“I want to believe you, Misha, but I know how close you are with your family. Tell me how you do not know about this new development?”

“I’ve been living in my city apartment and focusing on—” she wanted to say yoga, but somehow, letting him know about that part of her life meant the last vestige of her identity would belong to him. “Here. I’ve been working here and they know nothing about it.”

Thump!