Page 35 of Deadly Knight (The Bratva’s Elite #2)
She’s kissing me back, though I’m not sure she realizes it.
She’s tense beneath me, not like the Katya from my memories. Yet, this is everything I’ve been dreaming of for so damn long. Everything I’ve missed. She feels right in my arms. It’s where she’s always meant to be. Maybe I’ll keep her here forever; won’t let her go even after dealing with Ivan.
I move my hand from her neck, sliding over her hip before clutching her back to pull her closer. She melts into me, highlighting the differences since I last held her. She’s softer now, her body having curves I ache to explore but won’t in fear it’ll be too much, that she’ll react and end this.
Her head tilts, deepening the kiss, and while I want nothing more than to follow her down, taste her everywhere, and kiss her like a knight receiving a favour from his maiden before heading into battle, I’m about to entice a whole other kind of war.
One where she’s against me and won’t be granting favours.
Whatever it takes to keep her safe.
I twist her slightly, walking into her while directing her backwards.
She follows along, having no realization we’re headed away from the bed.
I hold her close, wanting to freeze the moment because it’ll be the last time she allows me to do this, but continue towards my bathroom across the way.
It’ll serve my needs with the help of the chair no one’s ever sat in off to the side.
When my tongue strokes against hers, I pull her hand up, linking my fingers in between, drawing out the moment as we pass the threshold into the bathroom.
She makes a confused noise and leans back, her eyes widening when taking in the different surroundings and, before she can react, I tug away entirely, slamming the door behind me and holding it closed while reaching for the chair.
“Dimitri!” Her fists bang on the door, and the knob jiggles, but my grip keeps it immobile. “You can’t keep me in here!”
Ignoring her, I prop the chair beneath the knob, nudging the chair legs into the carpet at such an angle she won’t be getting out. After releasing the handle, it turns halfway, only to be hindered by the chair’s backing. Her growl of frustration echoes through the thin door.
“This isn’t funny. You’re a fucking zasranets !” Asshole. Her Russian isn’t as smooth as it used to be, obviously unused in Toronto—another sign Canada isn’t right for her, but a point for another time.
“Yes.” No point in denying what she’s aware of. “When I vowed to stay away, I was a kid who didn’t know what he was doing. Now, I protect what’s mine. And, moya dusha , you’re mine whether you want to be or not.”
She makes an ungodly sound, but I continue for the door, feigning her yells aren’t bothering me. In reality, every shout makes my heart ache. Makes me want to turn around and prove to her how much she means to me.
“If you’re lucky, my father will take the first shot, and I’ll no longer be an issue for you,” I call loud enough she can hear me through the door.
Then I leave, shutting my bedroom door and locking it in case she finds a way out of the bathroom.
Slow claps draw my attention to where Vanessa leans against the opposite wall, Anastasia beside her, clapping, and Lev seated on the floor, stroking Veles, Vanessa’s Doberman puppy, who was a gift from Zeno.
He grimaces. “That was some show. Can I assume, based on our conversations, that she’s the someone once hurt by your father?”
Ignoring him, I drop my room’s key into Vanessa’s hand. “Let her out of the bathroom in a bit. Feed her. Don’t let her leave the room. I’m heading back to Toronto to end this for good.”
Vanessa trails me, gaping at the metal in her hand. “You can’t be serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You can’t keep her here against her own will.”
“Watch me.” The same words I recently said to Katya.
Vanessa sighs. “This feels like a bad idea. She’s going to hate you.”
“She already hates me, so what’s one more reason? I refuse to see her hurt again.” At the top of the stairs, I turn, my gaze flicking between the three people I trust above anyone else. “Keep her safe, please.”
Vanessa nods, knowing what Katya means to me, while Anastasia glances towards my bedroom, a question obviously building, which my cousin stops with a shake of her head.
“I’ll explain later,” she murmurs.
I glance at Lev. “Any word from Corsetti yet?”
Vanessa’s gaze whips between us, the skin between her brows wrinkling. In a blink, my cousin is replaced by the ruthless Pakhan others know her as—the one I’d forgotten to mention my possible plans to.
“Why are you contacting the Montreal Mafia without talking to me first?”
“Because the Corsettis rule most of Canada, from Manitoba to the east coast. They have numbers and influence I need. Alone, I’m searching for one person in a few million.
Corsetti has connections to other criminal organizations, most of them probably working for him.
If I can strike a deal, we’ll have a whole lot of eyes searching for Ivan. ”
A dark cloud casts over my cousin’s face, but her pressed lips suggest she’s considering my point too. “I understand you’re desperate to get him. I am too, but I should have been informed, especially if you’re making deals on the Bratva’s behalf.”
“The Bratva won’t be part of it, I swear. The deal will be with me and me alone, and I’ll make that very clear.”
Vanessa’s anger flickers slightly, and she scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip before blowing out a breath of acceptance.
“If you’re struggling to gain an audience with Corsetti, I might be able to help.
I can reach out to the Famiglia , see if Erico will play nice if I give him some facet of the truth.
New York and Montreal are closely aligned considering the wives of both bosses are sisters, so Rossi has direct contact with Corsetti.
Rossi will do anything for his wife, including help protect her sister, and if Ivan’s hanging around Canada, then it makes him a threat to Corsetti’s wife. I’ll make that fact known to Rossi.”
“Plus,” Anastasia says, “if you can get New York on the lookout too, it’ll benefit in case your father crosses the border.”
“Doubt he will, but it could be helpful,” I agree. Especially with Katya out of Toronto, he may take off.
Vanessa pulls out her phone, fingers tapping the screen. “Zeno has half of Europe on the lookout. We have Russia. If the Corsettis take Canada and the Famiglia their territory, that’s half the world. Unless he slips by us all and takes a flight to Australia, the Middle East, or Asia, he’s fucked.”
We’ll make Toronto a cage for my father, every other organization placing the metal bars down to trap him in the city. If the Corsettis and Rossis play nice.
“I’m heading back to the plane. How soon can you get in touch with Rossi?”
“Give me ten,” Vanessa answers, turning for her office. “I’ll see what I can do.”