When Dmitri tilted his head in my direction, he smiled.
Chapter three
Alisa
“Ready to show me your claws, kotenok?” Dmitri said as I hesitantly approached the mat.
My shoulders stiffened as laughter echoed around me. Everyone in this room spoke Russian, so they knew that he was calling me a kitten.
I looked up and down Dmitri’s powerful physique, wishing I could snap back with my fists and show him Ididhave claws.
With each step forward, the outline of his tightly packed muscles became more visible. As my eyes skimmed reluctantly down his powerful body, I was reminded that those corded arms could easily snap me in half.
Andrei’s takedown hadn’t seemed to quell any of Dmitri’s dark violence. When he tracked my steps like a panther about to pounce, I knew there was no avoiding my fate.
If it was inevitable, I refused to meet it submissively.
So I tilted my chin up, and channeled all the repressed pain, anger, and frustration I’d felt since my brother died into two words.
“Fuck you.”
Gasps echoed nearby me. Someone mumbled something in Russian about me having a death wish.
Instead of anger, I was met with dark laughter.
“Oh kotenok, I’m going to enjoy watching you break.”
A shiver ran up my back, but I refused to lower my gaze and beg for mercy. Instead, I dashed across the mat and swung a right hook at his face. I knew I couldn’t win this, but if I could just bruise that perfect face….
Before I could get anywhere near his face, his hand flashed out and caught my wrist.
“Now what happened here?” Dmitri said. He brought my trapped arm close enough to see the small needle marks and accompanying bruise on my wrist. “Hmm, an appointment with Dr. Poison?”
I froze for a moment, and forgot to thrash against his grasp. It was an open secret within the Bratva that I killed my marks with poisons. But not everyone was aware that I microdosed myself with said poisons and was weaker during those periods.
I swallowed. I couldn’t afford for this entire room to know that I was more vulnerable than usual.
My competitors might not be able to use that information to outright kill me since there was a strictly enforced no kill rule between the candidates in the competition.
But there were worse fates than death.
I jerked my arm back, and surprisingly Dmitri released me.
“If that were the case, and I happened to have a new arsenal of poisons, do you think it's wise to be messing with me?” I hissed quietly enough so only he could hear.
Within my pockets was a new vial Dr. Poison had designed for me. And it was a strong one; in his office I’d passed out moments after I’d injected myself with it.
Unfortunately, before I could weaponize it against anyone else, I needed to gain some sort of immunity. My overall process worked, but it sometimes felt like the new drugs I needed to accustom myself to were unending.
I hated to give my father credit for anything, but I couldn’t take credit for the initial idea. When I was sixteen, my father dragged me into Dr. Poison’s office where they forcibly began administering the drugs to me.
Dmitri’s hand wrapped around my throat before I could even register the movement. It was firm, but wasn’t constricting my breathing… yet.
“I’d hate to snap that pretty little neck of yours, Alisa,” he said, his voice quiet.
The use of my actual name alarmed me more than the hand gripping my throat. His long fingers tightened momentarily around the columns of my neck, but it felt more like a warning than an attack.
Once again, he released me, and I took an immediate step backwards.
