I hear footsteps, and then light floods my vision as the hood is ripped off my head.
I blink, squinting against the sudden brightness. Everything is blurry, shapes and colors bleeding together.
I blink again, harder this time, willing my eyes to adjust.
Slowly, the room comes into view, then the figures standing in it.
Dimitri.
He stands in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression cold and relentless.
Behind him, two guards flank the door.
Dimitri nods to someone behind me, and the gag is ripped away. I gasp, sucking in air.
I look up, my vision finally clearing, and see my hands. They're zip-tied together and hooked onto a large metal hook hanging from the ceiling.
"I had plans for you. You know that?" Dimitri says, his voice calm, almost conversational.
I don't respond. I'm too busy pulling air into my lungs.
"I was going to keep you on when the transition happened."
I gasp again, my chest heaving. "I don't... I don't know what you're talking about."
Dimitri laughs.
It's a low, mocking sound that makes my skin crawl.
"Sure you do. You saw what's on my tablet. The accounts, the infrastructure I've set up. All without Ivan even fucking knowing."
He shakes his head, his smile fading.
"And now, you won't be around to see me correct a mistake my father made long ago. The wrong son was chosen to run this family, but that'll be ending soon."
I stare at him so intently that I feel like I'm looking through him.
I want to spit in his face. I want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he stops breathing.
But I'll have to settle for hanging here, helpless, while he gloats.
Dimitri steps closer, his hand reaching up to grip my hair.
He yanks my head back.
"Tell me about my tablet. What did you take? Who'd you give it to, huh?" he says, pulling tighter. "Do the Romanians have it?"
I grit my teeth. "No," I lie. "But Ivan does. Or will soon."
Dimitri releases my hair, his expression skeptical.
"Bullshit. You haven't left Italy since you got here. And my brother's contacts here have been on my side for months now. All except for those who are loyal to Enzo Bonventi, but we watched those men, and you didn't speak to them."
I wince as the pain in my shoulders intensifies.
"You sure about that?"
He laughs again, but this time, there's no humor in it. He walks around me, rubbing his chin.
