Twisted Throne (Bratva Born #2)

8. Dimitri

Dimitri

The masked party is not taking place in the main part of the club, the bar area which I have already seen. Instead, Nikolai has repurposed an empty space toward the back of the building and decorated as if we’ve stepped back in time.

There is incredible attention to detail within the room, and when I overhear Sienna telling Maya that she had a hand in the preparations, I know why it looks so good. Nikolai Volkov might have amazing attention to detail, but I doubt that he bothers himself too much with decorating a themed ball. His wife, on the other hand, has knocked herself out.

Light dances off the crystal chandeliers, and glamorous people stroll around the room, champagne flutes in hand, masks firmly in place. My stomach is a churning mess again. If he doesn’t turn up with her, what the fuck will I do?

I turn to Alexis. “I could do with something stronger than champagne.”

He nods. “Me too; should I see if I can hunt down some scotch?”

We need to be absolutely on our toes this evening, but one drink won't dull my senses, and it might take the edge of this gnawing anxiety. “Yes, that will be great.”

I sense the presence next to me before I even hear a sound. I turn to see those cool, gray eyes regarding me.

Christ, no wonder they call him The Ghost. “Is it true what they say about you?” I ask, genuinely curious. “That you can find a way into someone's home and be standing over them in their bed as they sleep soundly, plunging the knife in before they even know you're there? That they call you The Ghost because of your ability to do these things?”

“I could tell you,” he says, “but then I'd have to kill you.”

I shake my head, chuckling softly at the joke. “You didn't bring your wife?”

“No. I don't like her leaving the island, unless it's necessary. There are people who might still wish to do her harm. She and I, we have an interesting past. Or rather, I should say her father and my family have an interesting and entangled past. The ghosts of that past ... well, some of them still live.”

I think of my own father and the way I misunderstood him all these years. It feels like I wasted so much time being angry at a ghost myself.

“Are you really going to take these people on?” It's a huge endeavor for him to start, and a dangerous one.

“I won't be doing it alone,” he says. “The way I see it is like this. I have a wife and a daughter, and I want to keep them safe. If there are people on the edges of our world, or within it, who are willing to take a woman and sell her to the highest bidder, how do I know that one day they won't come for mine?”

“You can't take them all out, though,” I point out. “I'm not talking about this particular group who run this auction, but the amount of people traffickers out there is genuinely terrifying. You'll never get them all.”

“Of course not,” he says with an elegant shrug of his shoulders. “The ones I know about, though, I can get. Let's just say it makes me sleep better at night.”

“So, you’ll be working on this with the big guy over there, and that’s it?” I jerk my chin toward the man called Priest.

“No, not only us, there are others. Some snipers who are the best in the business. Clever people with a skill set that's hard to match. What, with us taking on people on that end, Damen and his crew dealing with the threat in the Mediterranean, and I presume you guys rounding up anyone who's left from that ragtag group that took your brigadier's daughter, I'd say we have them pretty well dealt with.”

“There's still a few of them out there on the streets,” I say. “We’re looking for them.”

All around us people move about, but the noise of the orchestra playing a tune I don't recognize, and the hub of conversation means that no one can hear what we're saying.

“Not that you've asked for my advice, but if I were to give it, I'd say that you need to do everything in your power to ensure there's not one single one of them left.”

“Oh, I fully intend to.” Alexis walks toward me holding a thick glass filled with a rich amber liquid. I take the glass gratefully and sip at the scotch.

“I'm not happy about the fact that we can't take weapons into the second location,” I say quietly to Alexis. I know that Andrius can probably hear me, but that's okay. He's part of this now.

“Taking guns in there isn't going to keep this woman that you want back safe,” Andrius points out.

“That's true,” I say, “but I still don't like the idea of walking into what could possibly be a trap.”

“I wouldn't be here myself if I ever thought Nikolai would lead us into a trap,” Andrius says.

“I don’t mean Nikolai. I'm talking about this English cunt who has my woman. I've heard he has connections, power, and money. He might have already gotten wind of what we're doing here.”

“I doubt it,” Alexis says. “If he's heard about this, then we aren’t going to see Adriana tonight. He won't bring her if he realizes he's walking into a setup. We'll know soon enough whether he has any inside knowledge of us being here or not. If he arrives, then we can safely assume he has no idea what's about to happen.”

He's right, and I know it, but I'm climbing the walls with the need to see Adriana again and reassure myself that she's alright. I can't believe that she's gotten under my skin in such a short period of time. It's like she's burrowed her way in, and now that she's there, nothing will ever get her out. It's as if the moment we came together, our DNA mingled, and now she's left a stamp of herself deep inside me.

I notice Nikolai talking with a dark-haired, muscular man, who isn’t wearing a mask. He’s the only person in the room who isn’t part of the serving staff who has shown his face.

He reminds me in some ways of Nikolai but not at all in others. His face is rougher, harder too as if he faced the storms of life from a young age, and he's more muscular. Still, something about his mannerisms reminds me of Nikolai. “Who's that?” I nod over in his direction.

“Ah, now that is Maxim.” Andrius smiles as he glances over at the man. “He's the crazy brother. Do you know what he did to someone who hurt his woman?” Andrius carries on speaking without waiting for my answer because of course I don't know. “He noted every mark on her body, and before he killed him, he did the exact same things to the man who put those scars there.”

“I like him already,” Alexis says.

He glances around the room often, alert as always. Alexis is one of the very few people I'd trust with my life. It's basically a list of three. Alexis, Yuri, and Jacob. Out of the three of them Alexis is by far the deadliest. He's an intelligent man with a shrewd gaze, but when he really focuses it upon you, it feels as if it's burning right through you. They say that he did work for the Russian security services, before swapping sides and working for NATO. I have no idea how true any of that is, and Alexis doesn't talk about it. What I do know is that he's highly trained in some very questionable skills.

The door at the far end of the room opens, and another group of people walk in. Each time this happens my heart picks up speed, only for it to fall back into its regular rhythm again when I don't see anybody who could possibly be Adriana. There is a strikingly built woman within this group, but she's much slimmer than Adriana, without the same bountiful curves.

Disinterested in any other woman, I glance away.

People come and go, and the time ticks by. Andrius and Alexis partake in a deep conversation about their favorite assault rifle, and I'm zoned out, thinking about what Alexis said earlier. He said that if Barnaby had even the slightest inkling of what might happen tonight, he wouldn't come here. It's starting to look like that may be the case. The regular influx of people entering the club has dwindled to a trickle. I glance at my watch and see it's almost nine in the evening. If he doesn't arrive, I'm going to scale the walls of that dumb pretend castle he's hiding in, swim across the moat, and murder him with my bare hands. I'll do whatever it takes to get Adriana back.

The doors open again, and I glance at the group of people and sigh in frustration. There are three or four men, all of them older it seems, and three smaller women, who come in various shades of curvaceous, and all of them appear to be in their fifties or sixties.

From behind them another small group steps forward. This group contains two men and three women, and this time my heart speeds up and doesn't stop. It moves from a canter into a full gallop as I watch them walk toward us.

She’s here.

My littleblue is finally back in the same room as me.

She might be wearing a mask, but I would know Adriana anywhere. Her silky dark hair contrasts with the pale skin and that incredible body sheathed in a gown that flows over every single curve like liquid. It's even the color of water, a kind of greenish blue, with a slight hint of something metallic to it. It reminds me of the ocean in the Caribbean, and the way it glides over her body makes me think of liquid metal. She’s like the world’s most beautiful mermaid come to life. She’s found her human legs for one night to dance among us mere mortals.

Her mask is the most striking in the room. It covers her entire face, appears to be made of porcelain, and has a gold top half, which frames her gaze like a painting. The bottom half is creamy white, except for a heart shaped beauty spot above the perfect, cupid bow, pink lips. The mask contrasts with the simplicity of her dress. Every other woman is dressed like a courtesan from Versailles, and yet littleblue in all her simplicity is the most enticing creature in the room.

Her tiny blue bird shifts as she rolls her shoulders, as if uncomfortable in the dress. The movement makes her breasts jiggle, and I want to blind every man who notices.

“She's here,” I say to Alexis. “Blue-green dress, she's with two other women and two men.”

“I wonder which one is Barnaby,” Alexis says. “Two of them have his build, coloring, and hair. Without seeing his face, it’s hard to identify which is him. Wish we could tell.”

Me too, but then I don't have to wonder any longer because the bastard snakes an arm out and slips it around Adriana’s waist, his fingers resting lightly on the curve of her hip. The fucker is wearing a plague doctor mask, and isn’t that just fitting.

His fingers grip tighter, and my fists clench.

It’s a gesture that screams ownership, and I am not a man who takes kindly to being stolen from. Seeing the perp parading his ill-gotten gains so smugly makes the violence within me roar in volcanic rage.

I grind my teeth and realize I'm squeezing my glass so hard I risk breaking it. A hand touches the middle of my back, a brief and discreet pat, and I realize it's Andrius telling me to calm the fuck down.

“It's going to be alright,” he says. “She’s in the same room as you now, and within a few hours she'll be back with you.”

“Your lips to God's ears,” Alexis says.

They continue moving our way, slowly because they’re continuously stopped by people and speaking with them. It seems a lot of people here recognize Barnaby, even with the mask on his face. He's a tall man, and he carries himself well, but it can’t be just that.

Then I notice the huge ring on his pinkie finger. Deep, blood red, a ruby at the center of a thick gold mount. It catches the light as he waves his arms around, glinting with ostentatious luxury in this already opulent setting.

He isn't wearing a penguin suit the same as the rest of us either, but a dark green two-piece with a crest on the material, sitting over his chest on the left-hand side. I wonder if the ring and the crest are there to let people know exactly who this man is.

The desire to grab him around the neck, march him out of the room, hold the hand down that is at this moment touching my littleblue while Alexis saws it off is almost overwhelming.

The fact that I don't get to bring this piece of shit home with me and make him suffer is irritating. Still, I do believe Andrius and his friends will do a good job of making this man pay, and that's the only reason I'm letting this go.

Adriana subtly shrugs Barnaby off and walks deeper into the room, ahead of him.

There’s that feisty strength that I so admire in her.

She practically glides across the floor, a sea drenched siren calling all who look at her to drown upon their sin of desire.

Her skin is flawless under the glittering lights, and her hips sway tantalizingly with each step she takes. She’s all sinuous, sensuous perfection. An otherworldly creature playing with us mere mortals.

Her breasts are clearly outlined in the dress, and I hate the way male eyes watch her as she walks by. I don’t think she’s wearing a bra as her nipples push against the satin fabric. My eyes take in the collar at her neck, and I clench my jaw so hard, I almost shatter every tooth in my head. How fucking dare he collar what is mine.

I turn to Andrius. “I think I might have a real problem letting you guys take this motherfucker.”

He narrows his eyes. “Put your neanderthal needs to one side and focus on the women who are trapped right now.”

“Neanderthal?” I turn to him, staring at his gray eyes, ghostly in his dark, sinister mask.

“Yes, I mean that with all due respect.”

“Oh, of course you do.”

“It’s a simple fact. The caveman in you wants to take that man and tear him apart, but us interrogating him could save many women, children too.”

He’s right, and I hate it. I want to tear Barnaby limb from limb. I want to hang, draw, and quarter him. Maybe, I’d force feed him foie gras until he exploded from inside.

Andrius smirks.

“What?” I demand.

“I can see you running through the hundreds of ways you’d like to torture him in your mind.”

“Can’t I have just a bit of fun with him? Pretty please?” I plaster a sickly-sweet smile on my face.

“My only issue with that is my fear that you’ll kill him.”

I frown. “You think I have such little self-control?”

This bastard truly has a superiority complex.

“I wouldn’t have any self-control around him if I were you. If he’d have taken my Violet, put her in his collar, and paraded her around in a dress that was nothing more than a fig leaf with what it left to the imagination, there’s no way on God’s green earth I could control myself. I don’t think any man in love could.”

I open my mouth to say, I’m not in love , but snap it shut again because who cares what the fuck the right label is for this primal, insane protectiveness I feel thrumming through me. All that matters is that she is mine .

Adriana is mine.

I’ll do all I can to get her back, even if that means giving up my chance to make her captor pay. Then it hits me. I’m going to let others have their fun with him, all so I can get my littleblue safely home with me.

I’m giving up the chance at vengeance for the promise of safety for another human being.

Damn. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

The group approach the large bar running along the back wall of the room. There is glass after glass of champagne being placed upon it, and Barnaby grabs one and hands it to Adriana. She takes it and pushes her mask up slightly to take a sip.

The merest glimpse of her full pink lips has me hard. Fuck me, I can’t be reacting like this to her now. I need to keep thinking with my big head, not letting the little head rule the show.

“Want to talk to your sweetheart?” a low voice murmurs to my right.

I glance over my shoulder to see Nikolai behind me. His mask is mildly terrifying. It reminds me of the devil with its long, pointed chin, the pointed red and black painted ears, and the smiling mouth. To make it weirder, there’s a cherub painted on each cheek, blowing a trumpet into the vampiric ears.

“Interesting mask,” Alexis mutters.

“It reflects my inner soul,” Nikolai deadpans.

“Where is your brother, by the way? I thought he was an integral part of this.”

“Sasha is over there.” He points to the far corner of the room, to a man wearing a full face mask, alabaster white until the eyes, which are a deep red. Next to him is a slender woman, and she’s wearing a slinky dress too, like my littleblue, except hers is champagne gold, and her mask has red feathers creating a halo around her head.

Alexis and I have clearly picked the more boring options when it comes to Venetian masks.

I’m wearing a gold phoenix mask. It covers the top half of my face, but leaves my jaw uncovered. My dark beard, heavier than usual, disguises me quite well as it is. The mask has the wings of a phoenix taking flight over my head, sprouting from the top of the metal around my forehead.

Alexis has a dark, half-jester mask.

“Who are the happy, sad duo?” Alexis asks, pointing at two men side by side in a pair of matching masks, depicting tragedy and comedy.

“That’s Vadim and Valentin. A comedy of errors.” Nikolai chuckles. “They’re here in case needed. By the way, I will be joining you tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Sienna thinks that it’s important you get your girl back, and she wants me to do all I can to help.” He clears his throat. “Not that I can openly be seen to be taking sides, you understand, but if the shit really hits the fan … I will.” He sighs.

“Even though it will fuck up your business?”

“I’m there as a last resort. I’ll do nothing unless I really have to, but the more bodies there on your side, the better if it truly goes to shit. The Vs will be outside too.”

He nods across the room, briefly. His muscle. The men who do his dirty work for him nod back. I do my own dirty work. That is my job, my role in the organization, to be the attack dog. I do it so well too.

“Thank you. Yet again.”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry; I’m counting the favors.”

I bet he is. I glance over to where Adriana is sipping her champagne. Every now and again, I notice her taking a couple of tiny steps sideways, away from Barnaby.

She's also looking around feverishly, and my stomach tightens. She's going to alert Barnaby to her skittishness if she's not careful. Knowing that I need to speak with her as soon as possible, I turn to Nikolai. “Time to make your move,” I state.

“Roger that,” he says.

He and I stride to the bar, and he slips in between Adriana and Barnaby to enthusiastically welcome the bastard with open arms. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sasha commence a pincer movement as he steps to the other side of Barnaby, grabbing his attention too. Now the man is surrounded on both sides by two big men who pretty much block his view.

I stand to the left of Adriana, the farther side from Barnaby, and gently trail one finger down her arm. She shivers and glances down before slowly raising her gaze to meet mine. Those ocean eyes lock on me, and her body tenses in that way people have right before they move. Worried that she'll do something without thinking that will give our game away, I tap my finger on the back of her hand.

“Take it easy, littleblue,” I whisper. I turn away from her and stare at the bar as I keep on talking. “We're going to get you out of here, but you can't let Barnaby know that anything is wrong just yet. There's going to be another party soon, and he will take you there. Don't object to it; go with the flow, and that's when you will be rescued.”

“I can't believe you’re here,” she breathes. “I didn’t think you’d come and having you next to me is just incredible.”

“You didn’t think I’d come?” I growl. “Oh, baby girl, you don’t know me. Did he hurt you?” I have to ask despite dreading the answer.

“No, he hasn't. Not yet, but I think he might if I spend too much longer there. He’s insane, Dimitri. I had no idea. I saw him as a kindly man. My friend’s father, and like an uncle to me. Instead, I find out that all these years he's harbored these secretive, obsessive feelings about me. He has a painting, and it looks just like me.”

“I know,” I say. “How many men does he have guarding the house?”

“I’m not sure,” she says. “He has gardeners whom I don’t think are gardeners. He has security cameras and dogs that look like hellhounds. He has three men with him tonight. Tom, Adam, and a third guy whose name I don’t know, but he’ll have others, Dimitri. Following him. I think he has a lot of power. A lot of money but he’s also … not stupid, that would be the wrong word, but he’s oddly na?ve. Old fashioned. I’m not sure, but I think living in that decaying mock castle has given him a false sense of security. But he knows some bad people I think, from what he’s said.”

“That’s good. Thank you. I can use all that information. I must go now because we can't be seen speaking, and any minute he's going to be looking for you. There’s only so long to keep him distracted. Keep strong, littleblue. And soon you'll be back where you belong.”

She starts to speak, but I turn and walk away from her, even though it kills me to do so. I glance up, and at that moment Barnaby swivels his head our way. He can't be given any reason to say no to Sasha's invite to the after party. I need him there, no matter what. For the rest of the ball I force myself to barely look in Adriana’s direction. It's a difficult thing to do, but I didn't get where I am today by being undisciplined.

At some point in the evening, Sasha Volkov draws Barnaby to one side, and they have a conversation which at times looks almost heated. As the evening draws closed, Sasha walks by, leans in toward me, and quietly says that it is all go. Barnaby will be there.

I shove my hands deep into my pockets and ball them into fists.

Soon, I will take back what is mine.