Mafia King’s Bride

22. Dmitri

TWENTY-TWO

DMITRI

I find Igor Pavlov waiting in my office like an uninvited pest. His attempt at a disarming smile only serves to fuel my irritation. The audacity of this man never ceases to amaze me.

“What are you doing here, Igor?” I ask, my voice a cold blade.

He stammers out some excuse about the casino project. How quaint. I let him squirm for a full minute before acknowledging him, savoring his discomfort like a fine wine.

Igor launches into his concerns about profits and timelines. Little does he know, those casinos were never his to begin with. The fool signed away his empire without even realizing it. It would almost be pitiful if it weren’t so satisfying.

“Everything takes time,” I say, feeding him just enough truth to keep him complacent. “There were...complications with the previous owners.”

I watch realization dawns on his face. He truly had no idea what he was getting into. It’s almost too easy.

The conversation shifts to the sultan’s party. Igor’s curiosity is palpable, tinged with envy. He thinks he’s being clever, probing for information, trying to catch me in some sort of betrayal to the Bratva.

“Isn’t that what everyone says about us?” I respond smoothly to his jab about thieves. “That we have the Thieves’ Code?”

I can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide whether I’ve given him ammunition or not. He’s so focused on the small game that he can’t see the larger trap.

I redirect, asking him what he’d do if someone tried to steal his father’s territory. It’s a test, of course. One he fails spectacularly.

“I’d do worse,” he boasts, not realizing he’s digging his own grave deeper with every word.

When he mentions calling a meeting about the Italian families, I have to stifle a laugh. He thinks he’s making moves, playing the game. In reality, he’s just a pawn on my chessboard, and I’m about to capture his king.

“Fine,” I agree, already planning three steps ahead. “If there’s going to be an issue, we should deal with it now.”

I can’t wait to watch his world crumble around him. After all, in this game, there can only be one winner. And I’ve never been one for participation trophies.

Two hours of my life wasted on Igor’s paranoid ramblings. He claims it’s about New York, but I see through his pitiful attempt at misdirection. His problems in New Jersey are of no concern to me, unless they become useful leverage.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help with the casino?” he asks, trailing after me like a lost puppy.

“Opening night will be in a month,” I reply, my tone flat and final. “Give me till then.”

He reaches out, as if to pat my shoulder, but thinks better of it when he sees my expression. Smart move. The last man who touched me without permission lost three fingers.

As Igor slinks away, I shake my head. Pathetic. Jakob approaches, informing me that my sister is waiting in my office.

Now there’s a pleasant surprise.

“Brother!” Yelena greets me with her usual exuberance. I allow her embrace, mentally counting the seconds until I can extricate myself.

“You can let go now,” I say after a while.

She chatters away, mentioning lunch plans with Ana. My interest piques, though I’m careful not to show it.

“Do you need a ride?” I offer, aiming for casual indifference.

Yelena’s eyes widen comically. “Eh? Are you feeling alright, brother?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”

She sees right through me, of course. Always too perceptive for her own good. “I won’t assume you wanted to use me as an excuse to see Ana,” she teases.

I consider telling her the truth but decide against it. Some vulnerabilities are best kept hidden, even from family. Especially from family.

“Alright,” I say, waving her off. “See you when I see you.”

As the door closes behind her, I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This softness I’m feeling toward Ana is distracting.

“It’s better you didn’t, Dmitri,” I mutter to myself. “Some might see that as being clingy.”

The very word makes me shudder. I am Dmitri Orlov. I don’t do clingy. I’m a man who’s just discovered he likes his wife, nothing more.

To prove it to myself, I dive back into work. There are empires to topple and rivals to crush. No time for sentiment in this world of ours.

But even as I focus on spreadsheets and strategic maneuvers, a part of my mind lingers on Ana. On her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention.