She’s my best friend’s little sister. He would kill me, and I would let him. What I did deserves nothing less.
“I talked to my mother.” He sighs a deep exhale. “She said Dahlia hasn’t been herself since her concert.”
Dahlia hasn’t been herself since her kidnapping, but he knows that just as much as I do. Knowing she suffers makes me want to blow my head off.
“Could you move to the compound until I return?”
His request threatens to knock me down.
He’s my brother. I would sacrifice my life to save his, but fuck, what he asks from me is too much. I doubt I can control myself around her for an extended period.
“My best man protects her. Between yours and mine, nothing can come close to her.” I assure him as much as I do myself.
“You know what I mean. Mother said she hasn’t stopped playing.”
Dahlia is having one of her episodes. Fuck. And I was the trigger. He doesn’t know I am the fucking cause because he would never let me near her again. I am the sickness causing her symptoms. The knowledge makes me want to stab my chest and carve my heart out, offering it to her in restitution.
“Mika?” he insists, knowing full well I’ll always cave for her.
“I’ll move in until you return.” My voice sounds haunted, as if my decision will open the gates to carnage.
He breathes out a sigh of relief while I am hanging on a frail thread of sanity that disintegrates with every second.
Don’t betray your brother for a second time, I remind myself.
Once was enough.
Hanging up, I return to my desk and join the conference.
Enzo and I lead our joint organization, BRACON, but each of us oversees his division—me the Bratva, and he the Cosa Nostra.
And while I am the Pakhan of the Bratva in Reno, there are branches all over the world. The most important ones are in New York, Seattle, and Chicago.
I killed my competition swiftly, turning the three loyal allies into my right hands. In the end, the vote was unanimous. I am a strategist and slaughterer in one, keeping people on a longer leash so they think they are their own bosses.
Everyone is a piece on my chessboard, and it only takes a small reminder for them to retreat to their places. Trust is one thing, but control is better. My loyal brigadiers function as spies in every branch. This guarantees I stay in power and control the organization.
It’s loyalty or death. I kill first and ask questions after—my way of showing my men that if they risk betraying me, death will be the only way out. I punish even the smallest transgression and reward success with status and money, ensuring the competition makes the organization thrive.
People hang onto their lives, but in ours, even more so. Once you’ve tasted power, earning more money than you could ever spend, it becomes an intoxicating drug flooding your system. Success makes you feel like a god.
I listen carefully, nodding as each takes turns speaking as if I didn’t have the information already. They lead their branches with iron fists, and that’s one less worry.
Once the meeting ends, I close my laptop, leaning back in my chair.
The headache throbs behind my temples. Rubbing at them mindlessly, I try to drag out time, but knowing she’s hurting herself pushes me toward her. I would take her pain, make it mine if I could. I can’t, and fate is merciless, a never-ending punishment.
Inside the elevator, I press the button for the underground garage. Once the doors slide open, my men square their shoulders, standing taller.
“Boss,” they say simultaneously, dipping their chins toward me.
I walk toward my black Bugatti and slip inside the beast, sinking into the leather seat. The engine growls with its hundreds of horsepower, making my soul vibrate as I drive away.
When I was younger, my pleasures seemed endless, now fighting and driving this car remain.
I forsook them all the moment I ruined her life, so why should I get any pleasure? Even these two seem decadent, considering the monster I am. Yet, this monster is the only one she wants, the only one she lets near. No, not let, but rather craves.
Wrapping my fingers around the wheel hard enough that my knuckles whiten, I press harder on the accelerator as if eager to speed toward my ruin.
