Page 46 of Deadly Knight (The Bratva’s Elite #2)

Dimitri leads me out the door, past the security guard waiting to get his surveillance room back, and down a series of connected stone hallways.

We pass a few doors—cells—each one feeling more menacing the farther through the prison we go.

The air gets chillier, the desolateness more apparent.

Even the overhead lights are duller. Every cell we pass is one closer to Ad , to death or whatever’s at the end of life, until finally, Dimitri swings me to a stop in front of one.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a prison guard appears with a large chain of keys. He sticks one into the lock on the door, twists it open, and then steps aside for Dimitri.

From the holster on his hip, Dimitri takes out a gun and cocks it, momentarily causing me to blink, having forgotten exactly who he is. Being around Vanessa and Anastasia for the past two weeks has been peaceful and weapon-free. Though I doubt they were ever unprotected.

Either way, given what I’m willingly following him into, I’m thankful for the extra security. I doubt Ivan could do anything even if he wanted to, though, based on what I saw on the camera feed.

As Dimitri steps inside the cell, I take an extra few seconds to catch my breath. Seeing Ivan on a monitor is one thing, but witnessing the true villain behind my trauma finally brought to justice…it’s a lot.

Dimitri glances over his shoulder when I don’t immediately follow, and he stretches a hand out for me to take. I do without hesitation. Both my thoughts and feelings are muddled between longing, heartbreak, and anger, but I can’t deny what his disclosure in the security room made me feel.

Safe. Loved. Real.

“I’ve never stopped loving you, Katya. You may have left me, but not once have I left you.”

Here I’ve been blaming him for stalking me, when he’s been also ridding the world of the people behind my nightmares.

The photos he showed me were horrific and belonged in a crime documentary, and I kept waiting for the moment when looking became unbearable…

but the feeling never came. Seeing the blood, the gore, the decapitations and burning and limbs made me feel something.

Something dark, something pleased…something safe.

Does that make me a bad person?

Dimitri pulls me into the cell behind him, ending my wandering musing.

If the hallways are considered cold, then the cell is the Arctic.

Barely livable, but that’s probably the point.

Dimitri notices my shiver—because of course he does—and tugs me against his warm body.

Even when staying away would be wise, especially after the kiss I shouldn’t have initiated, his heat is welcoming.

Ivan pushes upright from his slouch, his chapped lips pulling into a weak grin, a shadow of the man who kidnapped me in the park the other week.

“Well, well.” His voice grates from a lack of hydration.

“Once again, you’ve destroyed my boy’s life.

I should have had them kill you and leave your corpse on that mattress.

Then Dimitri would have had zero distractions.

Instead, he chased you around the world for years. ”

His words strike…nothing. No feeling. There’s nothing he can say, I realize, that hurts anymore. Whether the truth or a lie, Ivan Volkov has lost the game he so carefully attempted to construct.

Ivan continues moving until he’s straighter against the wall, a fraction of the prideful man once roaming free. He coughs, rubbing at his dirty prison uniform as though trying to become that person again. To reclaim the power Dimitri’s taken from him.

He’s nothing, and this is why I wanted to come to the cell rather than only watch him on the monitor; to see is to believe, allowing my mind to accept the bandage being placed over the trauma. It’s enjoyable witnessing a once-strong man crumble.

“Your son was perfect then, and he’s perfect now.”

Ivan chuckles, the sound harsh. “Even now, she stands up for you. Does this mean I should expect a wedding invitation from you two soon? I’d love to attend, shackles and all.

” He cackles at his own joke, then focuses on Dimitri.

“How ever did you manage to convince her to be with you, after everything? Even knowing what’s to come? ”

He’s probably only baiting us, but I can’t help looking at Dimitri and asking, “What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing.” Dimitri’s teeth snap, his glare icier than the cell. “He’s talking out of his ass because he has nothing left. We’re entertainment, that’s all.”

“That may be true,” Ivan drawls, “but I am speaking the truth, Miss Terasov. My son clearly convinced you to be with him again, but before you walk yourself back into danger, heed my advice. I may no longer be a Bratva Elite member, my brother and Pakhan may be gone, but there are many who have never followed Vanessa. Many of Ursin’s Elite wanted me to take his place.

They still look to me to lead.” He regards Dimitri with a satisfied smirk.

“How else would I have had the manpower to kidnap both Mancinis and a force equal enough to the one Vanessa brought? When my loyalists learn of my captivity—and eventual death—they’ll come for you.

You and Vanessa and”—his eyes crawl down my body, causing me to shy deeper into Dimitri’s side—“anyone you care about. They won’t allow my death to go unpunished. ”

Danger.

It’s a thought striking through anything felt in the surveillance room. The small part of me that allowed myself to be convinced by Dimitri’s actions and Vanessa’s proof that the Bratva isn’t the same as it was in the past disappears, old fears and worries replacing everything else.

While the Bratva as an organization is different, not everyone from that time is gone. Dimitri may have ended the people behind that night, but Ivan’s words, which go against everything his son’s been trying to convince me of, remind me it’s not completely safe.

If he’s right, and they’re pissed, who will they send after Dimitri?

After me, to punish him? After Vanessa? I’d be caught in the crosshairs again .

If I thought seeing Dimitri shattered the walls I’d built, being placed in a similar situation would destroy me.

There would be no walls to reconstruct, because I’d be gone. Nothing.

My scars are covered by the coat, but they nearly throb with the reminder of what’s at stake.

“He’s lying. He’ll say anything.” Dimitri pulls me a step back, always the defender. “This was a mistake.”

Dimitri cares for me. Still loves me, and I believe him, but maybe that’s the issue.

Ten years of stalking and murdering proves his devotion to me, but maybe there’s such a thing as love not being enough because there’s too much of it.

If Ivan’s people target me or Dimitri, he’ll do anything to protect me and I, despite the pathetic self-defence classes, will never be able to keep him safe in return.

He needs a woman he doesn’t love as much.

Who won’t be a target to get to him, putting him in danger.

Ivan places a hand on the wall and, on shaky legs, begins to stand. It’s a full pitiful minute before he’s upright, though weak, using the stones at his back to stabilize him.

“Dimitri is concerned you’ll turn on him, but I do implore you to listen to what I’m saying.

People will come for my son and niece. If you hang around them, you will be in danger, exactly how I made it so years ago.

It’ll happen again, only it won’t be me controlling the pawns.

Dimitri vowed himself to the Bratva, and with that comes a life of crime and death.

He’ll never be the man who works a nine-to-five job and will settle into a civilian life. It’s not in his blood, and?—”

Dimitri hauls me away before Ivan finishes speaking, the metal door slamming shut between us. He pushes me in front of him, backing me into the adjacent wall while ignoring the guard who pretends not to watch.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s lying. He’s desperate.” I’m quickly yanked into a desperate kiss—the plea of a man seeking the past he believed, or at the very least hoped, he’d gotten back.

I turn my head to break it, my lips numb. All of me is numb.

Ivan didn’t tell me anything I wasn’t aware of; every word was true. When I was a teenager and Dimitri’s job was to deal drugs to our classmates, his role within the Bratva seemed like a small thing. Maybe because I didn’t understand it as well back then. Didn’t see everything he’d be capable of.

But we’re no longer kids. I work with children. I have parents. Nora. None of them deserve to be in potential danger because I’m dating someone from this world. I’m not right, nor good enough for him, to handle all this.

Dimitri hoped bringing me here would change my mind about him, even if he didn’t outright state it. He didn’t need to; he asked for twenty-four hours, and he’s using every available second to draw me back to his side.

This trip only reaffirmed why I don’t belong here.

Dimitri makes an irritated sound before pulling me farther down the hall. His hand is tight around mine, his steps so quick I’m practically jogging. He can be pissed all he wants, but it only proves one thing: He, too, believes his father’s warning.

Logically, it makes sense. Vanessa mentioned her takeover wasn’t an easy one, so of course Ivan wouldn’t be the only old Bratva member pissed.

It’s like bullies in elementary school when they have the same target; they team up to get the job accomplished.

Ivan probably connected with anyone not following Vanessa to maintain his own force of soldiers.

At some point, word will get out that Dimitri captured Ivan, a prominent member of the organization they all once revered, to old traditionalists who want to follow the way things “should be” rather than the direction Vanessa brought it by targeting them.

Once we’re inside the vehicle, Dimitri hikes the heat and turns the vents onto me. “Twenty-four hours, remember? You’ve agreed. We have one more place to go.”

I’m not sure I can handle a second, but wordlessly, I sit back and settle in for the long drive.