Page 14 of Twisted Embrace

“But you know my reputation. Yes?”

His snort was irritating but par for the usual course of how an enemy captive acted. “You Italians are all alike. You think you can schmooze your way through anything.”

I heard Anthony chuckle from behind me. “I rarely schmooze, Dimitri. I have no time for bullshit politics or keeping the peace. I’m going to ask you a single question. If you answer correctly, you win the prize. If you don’t, I’ll have my men carve off a small piece of you at a time until you provide the answer.” On cue, Anthony presented a knife with a jagged blade, blood left caked on the cold steel.

The fucker didn’t flinch.

“The hit on my sister. I already know it was ordered by your Pakhan. The question is why.”

The slight flicker of his eyes was the only reaction, but enough to know he was surprised I’d figured it out. “You made a mistake killing Igor Petrov.”

It was my turn to be surprised that he’d volunteered the information so easily. That meant there was an ulterior motive. “I apologize for taking the fun out of whatever form of punishment your Pakhan intended but it was just business.”

He laughed, darting his eyes toward the knife as Anthony shifted it from one hand to the other. “He was valuable.”

“He was a turncoat but that no longer matters. Why was he so important?”

“Because he had something of even greater value.”

I rubbed my jaw, admitting to myself that I was curious what the worthless Russian could have possible kept hidden that would matter to the Bratva and why they’d used his death as the reason for an unplanned attack.

“Well, for once a Russian has me curious. Please do tell me what could possibly have caused your Pakhan to come out from his lair.”

Boris Petrov was already in his eighties, a cousin to the Volkov clan still swarming around Italy looking for crumbs. Since they’d been defeated on our Italian soil months before, they’d vowed to avenge the loss of dozens of their men. There’d been rumors they were attempting to take control of Italy with more creative methods.

Boris was losing his mental faculties, his decisions sometimes rash. With no direct heir, the Bratva could be in shambles with his death. It was entirely possible he’d formed a closer alliance with the Volkovs because of that fact alone.

He grinned and it was obvious he’d wanted nothing more than to drop a carrot, eager for my reaction. I gave it to him without hesitation, smashing the side of my weapon against his face. The force pitched him over, the cracking sound indicating I’d broken at least one bone in his ugly body.

“So you know, Dimitri, I have no sense of humor nor do I like to play games. You have one last chance before I’ll unleash my Capo on you. I assure you he’ll enjoy taking his time. What was Igor’s secret?”

When he started to wheeze, blood oozing from his mouth, I took a deep breath. Sometimes I didn’t know my own strength. I moved closer, crouching down on the floor so he could whisper.

I’d rarely been shocked by anything in my life. In truth, I could detect lies and had premonitions about situations that almost always came true.

The rage inside could no longer be contained. Coupled with what Igor had told me, the news was either a multi-faceted lie used as a lure or the best kept secret inside the Russian organization.

I stood, taking in a deep breath then placing the barrel of my weapon against his forehead. Playtime was over.

CHAPTER 5

Joy

Communication.

I refused to be without it, especially after everything that had happened. I needed a new phone even if it was temporary.

Yet as I’d headed out of my apartment, I hadn’t been able to avoid the ugly sensations crawling over every inch of my skin. My best friend might be dying and all I’d thought about, even for a short duration, was replacing my phone. The police must have collected my iPhone by now, but I certainly wasn’t in the mood to head to the police station.

At this point, I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers until the nightmare was lifted, the new day bringing another reality. I held the new burner phone tightly, forced to leave a message for Marla. If she’d remained by the door, there was a good chance she’d made it out of the restaurant.

As I returned to my apartment building, I took a few seconds to scan the street. I’d felt like I’d been watched the entire time but had seen no one specifically in the crowd that had drawn my attention. At least I’d had the forethought to pick up a few groceries as well, including a bottle of wine. I doubted sleep would come.

Twilight had already claimed the city, creating ominous shadows dancing from every alley and building alcove. My hands were icy even though it was still warm, and I juggled with the packages as I fought with the outside door. I immediately headed for the elevator, hissing as I noticed the sign that it was out of order. I hadn’t been gone more than forty-five minutes. What in the hell had happened?

Grousing wasn’t going to get me inside my apartment any sooner. I trudged up the four flights of stairs, still looking over my shoulder, finally laughing at myself. While the building might be old, it was very secure. I’d felt safe here from the moment I’d moved in. It wasn’t as glamorous as the condo where Lucia had lived, but I was the kind of girl who preferred saving and investing money instead of spending it on frivolous purchases.

When I finally made it to the landing, I took one last look over the railing before exiting the stairwell. The hallway was eerily quiet, especially for a Saturday night. I headed for my apartment, still fumbling with the keys. Then I realized the door wasn’t locked. That wasn’t possible. I was very vigilant given the crime in the city. My nerves were instantly frazzled. Maybe the bad guys had seen me with Lucia and were eliminating any witnesses.

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