Ruthless Bratva King (New York Russian Mafia Kings #1)

41. Elena

41

ELENA

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white as I guide the car through the empty streets.

Dmitri reclines in the passenger seat, his body tense but his expression unreadable.

I glance at him, his profile sharp in the dim light of the dashboard. His jaw is set, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Finally, I break the quiet. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

He doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, I think he’s going to ignore me. Then he exhales, his voice low and measured. "The man who came to see you won’t be a problem anymore."

My grip on the wheel tightens. "What does that mean?"

"It means I dealt with him and his friends," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “No one’s reporting back to Peter about you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like I said, you’re under my protection.”

I glance at him again, trying to read his expression, but his face is as impenetrable as ever. "And your back?"

"One of them managed to get close with a knife."

The image of Dmitri surrounded, fighting for his life, sends a shiver down my spine. "You could’ve died," I say softly, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

"But I didn’t," he replies, turning his head to look at me. His gaze is steady. "They did."

Silence settles over us again, but it’s far from comfortable. I hesitate, then ask the question that’s been clawing at my mind since I looked him up online. “Do you work for Peter Ivanov? The Bratva Boss?”

His head snaps toward me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What makes you say that?"

"I read about him online," I admit, my voice quiet but firm. "Are you his hitman? The one they talk about? Did you do those terrible things?"

He exhales slowly, his gaze shifting back to the road. For a long moment, he says nothing, the tension between us growing unbearable.

Finally, he speaks, his tone calm but laced with steel. "I’ll tell you the truth, Elena. But not now."

"Why not?" I demand, the frustration bubbling up despite myself.

"Because," he says, his voice softening, "I need more drink and some food first."