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

49. Dmitri

49

DMITRI

T his place is a strange choice for a morning meeting—an overgrown park with twisted iron benches and a crumbling fountain that spews nothing but air.

It’s public but Peter’s perhaps getting nervous. The men who took Veronica didn’t seem like Lombardi’s men to me. They seemed like Peter’s.

I spot him near the fountain, tossing breadcrumbs to a flock of fat, cooing pigeons. His tailored overcoat and cashmere scarf don’t match the grime of the setting.

“Dmitri,” he says without looking up, his voice cutting through the frosty air. “Do join me.”

“I thought you hated pigeons.” I approach slowly, every nerve in my body on high alert. He knows something. He always does. I can feel it like a blade hovering over my neck.

“Slow acting poison,” he replies with an icy smile. “They’ll be dead within an hour.” He tosses more breadcrumbs. “You know, these birds remind me of people. Always scurrying about, fighting over scraps, oblivious to the larger predator watching from the shadows.”

I say nothing, waiting. He’s building up to something.

He turns to me, his dark eyes sharp beneath the brim of his hat. “Speaking of predators and prey, let’s discuss you for a moment.”

I stiffen, but I hold his gaze. “What about me?”

“Marriage,” he says casually, brushing crumbs from his gloved hands. “Such a sacred institution, isn’t it?”

The word hits me like a bullet, but I don’t flinch. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come now, Dmitri. You didn’t think I’d remain ignorant, did you? A girl like Elena doesn’t just stumble into a man like you. You married her to keep her safe from Lombardi? How noble.” He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “And yet, your job involves killing her. What’s the plan? Fuck her then kill her? That’s cold, even for you.”

A cold wave rushes through me, but I keep my face impassive. “I’ll finish the job.”

He tilts his head, studying me like a specimen under glass. “So loyal. That’s the image you like to project, isn’t it? But loyalty is easily tested, Dmitri. And now it’s your turn.”

He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and extends it toward me. I don’t take it right away, but he presses it into my hand, his grip firm.

“Elena’s family,” he says, his tone deadly quiet. “I found them seeing as you’ve been too busy fucking that girl to get on with work.”

I glance at the paper. An address. My stomach tightens into a knot.

“Where’s my statue?” he asks, scattering more breadcrumbs.

“I’ll have it soon.”

His voice is a razor’s edge. “You have twenty-four hours. Kill them. All of them. Her, too. Then bring me my statue, or I’ll end this little game myself.”

His smile widens, venomous and gleeful. “I’ll make sure her last moments are filmed for posterity. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” He winks. “Get the picture?”

The threat hangs in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I want to strangle him but I can see at least six guards nearby, all armed.

My blood burns, but I force myself to stay calm, to nod as if I’ve accepted his orders.

“Twenty-four hours,” he says again, turning back to his pigeons as one keels over, legs scrambling at nothing. “Guess it works faster than I thought.” He gets to his feet. “This is what happens when you play with fire, Dmitri. You get burned.”

He walks away as the rest of the pigeons drop dead at my feet, one by one.

I step out of the park. My mind churns like a storm, Peter’s words echoing in my skull.

Twenty-four hours. Kill them all, including her.

A bitter laugh escapes me, swallowed by the hum of distant traffic. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing—testing my loyalty, playing his twisted game.

He wanted Veronica for leverage but I got ahead of him. So this is the end game.

I’ve seen him do it to others. I’ve watched them fail, and I’ve seen what happens when they do. Now, it’s my turn in his crosshairs.

My breath clouds in the air as I pull out the crumpled piece of paper and stare at it. An address. Her family. People I’ve been hunting since before I knew her, before she became something more than a target, more than a means to an end.

Before she became my everything.

My fist tightens around the paper until it’s nothing but a damp wad. How did I let this happen? How did she crawl so deep under my skin that the thought of losing her feels like I’m tearing my own heart out?

I lean against the nearest wall, pressing my head to the cold brick.

Death is part of the job. Lives mean nothing to me. But her? Elena doesn’t belong in this darkness. She’s light, stubborn and pure in a way that shouldn’t exist.

She’s a reminder of something I thought I’d buried long ago—a part of me I didn’t think could still feel.

I close my eyes, her face flashing in my mind. The way she looks at me, like she sees the man I could be instead of the monster I am. The softness of her touch, the strength in her voice when she refuses to let me push her away.

Peter’s ultimatum isn’t just about loyalty—it’s a noose around my neck, tightening with every second.

If I don’t kill her family, he will kill us both. Slowly, painfully, and he’ll make sure I live long enough to watch her suffer.

If I do it, I’ll lose her forever. Not just her love, but her trust, her belief in me—the only thing keeping me from slipping entirely into the abyss.

There’s no way out of this. No path that doesn’t end in blood.

The clock is ticking, each second a reminder that I can’t hesitate. I glance down at my hands, scarred and calloused, and wonder if I can still be the man she thinks I am. Or is the monster inside me all that’s left?