Page 187 of Dance of Devils

“Kir—a word,” Dimitri says.

“Ivan? I’ll call you back.”

I hang up, my face a mask of puzzlement as I turn to face Dimitri.

He sighs heavily. “Enough of this, Kir,” he growls. “This is our fathers’ pigheadedness, not ours. So, let’s settle this without anyone owing anyone. You want New York, I want Moscow. There’s no disagreement there, is there?”

I shake my head. “None at all.”

I had my fill of my home country alongtime ago.

Dimitri nods. “My Inessa is a fine dancer, but so is Brooklyn. How about we say no favors, and we stop tyingtheirfutures toourbullshit. They both audition for that one slot of Ivan’s, and whoever he picks?—”

“Inessa is going to Moscow, Dimitri,” I say quietly.

His eyes widen. “But?—”

“The decision, it would seem, has been made for us.” I shrug. “Brooklyn called Ivan and withdrew from the auditions. I would imagine that spot is Inessa’s, if she wants it. From what I’ve heard, she very much deserves it.”

Dimitri chuckles and claps me on the shoulder. “You love this girl?”

“More than anything.”

He grins. “You’re going to have your hands full with her, my friend.”

Don’t I know it.

The two of us formally shake on our new agreement and promise to keep communication open while our people get the necessary paperwork together.

“I’m still going to endorse Inessa to Ivan,” I tell him. “I know she doesn’t need it, but?—”

“The gesture is appreciated,” Dimitri says, dipping his chin. Then his brow furrows. “There’s one more thing. Lou Cassavetti. He hurt your girl, didn’t he?”

“He did,” I growl.

Dimitri’s face darkens. “He’s yours, then. I’ve been keeping him at one of my safe houses in Queens. I didn’t know all the things he’s done, and I needed him to finish cleaning my financials here in New York. After he was attacked?—”

“In the interests of transparency, you should know that was me, Dimitri,” I growl.

His mouth sours. “But he was hurting Brooklyn?”

I nod.

“Then he’s dead to me. I’ll text you the address of the safe house and let my men outside know that they can…take a break.”

I smile grimly as I shake his hand. “Thank you.”

“I look forward to turning a new page, my friend.”

48

KIR

There’sno dramatic final speeches or anything. I have Lou sobbing and writhing like a fucking worm on his knees in the metal scrapyard an hour later.

He’s trying to beg for mercy, I assume. It’s hard to tell with his bloody, severed dick stuffed in his mouth.

He can beg for all the mercy in the universe.