Page 46 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)
"Then shut your mouth and tell no one,” I growled back, my patience non-existent. "It's your fucking job to make sure this shit never happens, Dima! Don't fucking read me lectures." Where was the betrayal? I had no idea. It was staring me right in my eyes, but clearly, I had lost all vision .
Why was he so sure it was Domenic? I knew, I knew it wasn’t.
Bringing Mia to that wine club was not accidental.
I was well aware that he would be there that night, and I showed up with Mia to declare that we both had too much to lose if we played the dirty game.
I had a woman just like him. He didn’t touch what was mine, and I wouldn’t either.
Dmitry leaned back on the chair and dropped his cigarettes on the table. "You can't smoke here, and also, what the fuck happened to your apartment?" I asked, still thinking about Domenic but eager to finally find out the details that he still hadn’t revealed.
"It went up in fucking flames. I came home to ashes. All of it, fucking gone." His voice quiet, he closed his eyes and dropped his bulky shoulders. He had no place to stay, but he sure as hell wasn’t staying on Mia's couch.
"Get our guys to surround the perimeter of this building.
Anyone suspicious in and out, report to me immediately," I spat out instructions, not having any idea if it would do anything.
"I want Francesco removed, his family contacted, and him buried according to his will.
" My poor old man, he served so diligently. What a fucked-up way to go.
"Lastly, I need twenty-four-hour security around Polina. As soon as she opens her eyes, I need to know, no matter the time."
Yuri nodded, taking out his phone to carry out my instructions. Unnervingly, he stayed quiet almost the entire time. This conversation led to nothing, and while Dmitry left a few minutes later, Yuri remained, evidently waiting for us to be alone.
"What?" I asked, knowing he had something on his mind.
"I don't know." That didn’t mean much. Yuri always said he didn’t know, even when he was one hundred percent certain. "Why was Polina at the safe house? My keys are right here." He jingled his keys. "Where are hers? Where are Dima's?" I didn't think any of those answers would bring any clarity.
“Have you been seeing anything out of place? Any indication that this was on the horizon? ”
Yuri pursed his lips and shook his head.
“No. Everything is business as usual.” Fucking great, Yuri had no fucking leads.
“I’m going to go to the safe house now and check it out.
See if I can find anything. I got my seasoned guys downstairs.
” Yuri followed Dmitry, leaving me with my own rotten thoughts.
With everyone gone, I found my girl in the shower, fully clothed, her eyes aimlessly staring at the wall. I opened the door, but she didn’t even flinch. I sat down beside her, the lukewarm water pelting us both.
Slowly, she rubbed her hands together. Scrubbing. She was trying to scrub the blood off, even though it was long gone.
"Sunshine, you can't spend so much time in the water; it will damage your–"
"There was so much blood, Kirill," she interrupted me quietly, still staring at the wall. "Did he suffer? Does it hurt when– when you die like that?"
This . This heartbreak in her voice, the uncertainty, the trauma—this was exactly what I was desperate to avoid. "And what about Polina? Is she going to survive? Are we next?" She chuckled without any humor, her wet hair plastered against her neck and cheeks.
I pulled her onto my lap, cradling her face in my hands.
"No one will ever take you from me, Sunshine.
No one." My lips found her wet cheeks, pressing against the traces of her tears, steadying the red haze raging inside me.
"If anyone so much as touches you with even a finger, I will cut them apart, piece by fucking piece.
Do you understand?" I held her gaze, her beautiful eyes glistening with fresh tears. "I will annihilate anyone who dares to threaten you, baby. I swear to God. I’ll burn the whole fucking world to the ground, but I will never let anyone hurt you.”
Mia nodded, gulping down her sadness, her soft, wet lips on mine.
"Your birthday is over," she whispered and turned my watch to us. "Maybe that means it's all over? And nothing bad will happen again?"
Maybe. Maybe we could just forget any of this happened. Cross it out of our memory, start fresh, start new, where Mia was just a woman I fell in love with and I was just a simple man, my conscience not burning up in sins.
The next day, Dmitry filled up my office with cigarette smoke as he paced the area, throwing out his speculations. I hadn’t smoked a cigarette since August, but we were on our second pack.
"All three of us were attacked on the same night. Such a coordinated attack takes careful planning and observation," Dmitry said, telling me things I already knew.
"Yes, but none of these attacks make sense.
Why the fuck would Domenic order a hit on Polina?
She's of no importance to him!" Her hanging body flashed in my eyes every time I closed them.
"How did they find out about our safe house?
Why did they blow up your entire apartment?
What the fuck does Francesco have to do with anything?
!" I raised my voice, wild rage brewing inside me at the lack of answers.
Dmitry was just as responsible for our safety as Yuri and Polina.
"I don't think it was Domenic." Dmitry suddenly shot his eyes up into mine and surprised me with the opposite of what he said yesterday.
"It's one of our men. Everyone who’s coming for the Skhodka isn't happy, Kirill.
It's not hard to extrapolate. They could have decided to take matters into their own hands if they're feeling abandoned–"
"Abandoned?! What kind of bullshit are you spewing about our own men, Dima?" This conversation was pushing all my buttons. "Give me names, then; give me concrete names!”
"Danila for one. He's letting things slip in Moscow.
Misha has disappeared off the radar." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
For the first time ever, Dmitry was making absolutely zero fucking sense!
"Roman, on the west coast, has been impossible to get a hold of.
That kind of disrespect isn't to be taken lightly. "
Disrespect. That's exactly what Dmitry was showing me. Instead of getting down to the bottom of what fucking happened, he shifted the blame to the men closest to me.
"And Francesco probably worked for the Italians, Kirill.
" His calm demeanor was a stark contrast to his vile words.
"Retribution comes in all kinds of ways.
I warned you about him." Dmitry stubbed out his cigarette and threw my whole soul into turmoil with this meeting.
"I'm going to see Polina. I'll call you later. "
But later never came, and Dmitry and I didn't speak for an entire week.
For the first time in the twenty-five years that I had known him, we didn’t speak for a week . Even when I was in prison— even then— we kept in touch almost daily, still running the business.
Francesco didn't end up having any family at all. No one. Not one person was found that he had any relations to, making Dmitry’s words about him feel real. Was Francesco a spy?
A week later, Yuri and I stood at his grave, light snow gently covering the fresh earth. "So? Any real information for me, Yura?" One thing always remained true—Yuri was the one person I trusted with my life, and in this situation as well.
"No, but...it's someone on our side." I whipped around to face him, genuinely shocked at his confirmation of Dmitry's words. There was no denying it then. Someone had been poisoning the waters for a long time, and instead of doing my research, I continued living in denial.
"Who?"
"I don't know exactly, but I think you should rely on our old proverb—with certain friends, you don't need enemies. Don't trust anyone."
It was private, just us two. I was sure he was free to speak, and yet, he chose to speak in a riddle. "Why don't you tell me the truth, Yura?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know who it is.
" His gray eyes gave me no comfort while he assured me.
"There are too many moving pieces and unanswered questions.
It's all very murky, but," he paused, lowering his voice.
"It's one of us. Just be careful. I'll keep a closer eye on Mia, and you should move back home; it's more secure. "
With this harsh reality, Mia and I restarted our life back home. Francesco’s blood had been scrubbed away, but the stain of betrayal remained.