Dimitri's Forbidden Submissive(87)

“Baby girl, I gotta know, you hurt?”

“Hit…hit my head. He stepped on me. Choked me, hurt me.” She let out a wailing moan that made all the men in the room flinch.

Rock shoved Terror out of the way and lifted her into his arms. “I got you. You’re safe.”

At that she burst into tears and clung to her step-dad. “I-I have to tell Dimitri. They f-found m-me.”

Rock started to swear and held her closer. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Th-that man spoke Russian.” She took a deep breath and curled into a tighter ball. “I need Dimitri. You have to call him for me, please, Rock. I need him.”

Rock began to bark out orders, but she didn’t pay attention anymore, just kept asking over and over for Dimitri before she gave in to the pain throbbing through her skull and everything went dark.





Chapter Nineteen





Dimitri took a sip of his coffee and watched as Petrov Dubini gave his wife, Vera, a kiss while she served them a small tray of breakfast sweets. To the outside observer they looked like a typical, if rich, couple in their early sixties. Vera still possessed the pale beauty that had once won her the Miss Russia crown while Petrov was as fit and charismatic as ever. His dark eyes warmed ever so slightly as he looked up at his wife and gave her a small smile. Only the faintest hint of silver peppered his dark hair and goatee. Dimitri counted himself lucky to be one of the few people in this world who got to see Petrov Dubini, leader of the Dubini Bratva, smile. Then again, he’d known Petrov since he was a child and considered the man more of a father than his own flesh and blood. One of Petrov’s sisters was Alex’s mother. Dimitri had no blood ties to the man other than being the half-brother of his nephew, but Petrov never treated Dimitri any different than Alex. To Petrov, Dimitri was as much a member of his family as Alex.

Which was why Dimitri was here talking to Petrov instead of the dying monster who’d sired him back on his family’s ancestral estate. Dimitri’s father kept trying to get him to come visit, but he never wanted to return to that place where the old man had entombed himself. Too many bad memories. At one time, the massive ancestral summer and winter mansions on the Novikov estate outside of Moscow had been filled with the love and light of his mother and sister, but when they died darkness had taken over. As long as his father was there, Dimitri would continue to avoid those places.

Petrov watched his wife leave and close the door to his study behind her. They were seated near the window on the third level of Petrov’s townhome, a room that had the feeling of being lived in, filled with books and mementoes. The leather chairs where they sat were comfortably broken in, and the table where their coffee cooled was slightly scarred here and there from use. This wasn’t a room for presentation, but rather for family and Dimitri appreciated that Petrov allowed him into his inner sanctum like this.

Studying Dimitri, Petrov steepled his fingers and tapped his chin. Today the man wore a dark grey sweater with the arms rolled up. “So you and Alex have managed to secure an alliance with the top eight Bratvas in Moscow.”

“We have,” Dimitri acknowledged, trying to hide his pleasure at the feat. It hadn’t been easy, especially with keeping the knowledge from his father, but the Novikov Bratva was solidifying its role for when Dimitri’s father passed. That included forging new friendships and breaking the old, toxic alliances.

For a long moment Petrov was silent, then he gave Dimitri a small smile that made Dimitri’s pride swell. “You and Alex have done very, very well, Dimitri. And more importantly, you did it without my help or your father’s. That says a lot about a man.”

“Thank you.” He tried to keep his face as blank as possible as he held Petrov’s gaze. “I am honored you consider us among your friends.”

The corner of Petrov’s mouth twitched. “While I wish I could have convinced you and Alex to leave your Bratva to join mine, I am honored to consider you my family. You will always have a place in my heart and my home.”

Dimitri couldn’t suppress a sigh of relief. Petrov could have easily refused an alliance, the Dubini Bratva was one of the four most powerful in the world, while the Novikov Bratva had suffered from years of corruption and weak leadership. Dimitri and Alex had done what they could to mitigate the damage, but their father had surrounded himself with powerful friends who were loyal to the death and very narrow-minded. It had become a delicate balancing act between saving the Novikov Bratva and not angering their father.

But over the past four years, after Jessica’s death, Alex and Dimitri had begun to build their own inner sanctum of men and women who were loyal to them. When Dimitri’s father passed one of two things would happen: either Alex would assume the role of the Novikov Pakhan, or Dimitri and Alex would split off from the family and form their own Bratva. With the alliances they’d formed and the additional support of the Dubini Bratva, that dream was becoming reality. Even if their father disowned them in a fit of mad rage, they would still survive and those loyal to them would be under Alex and Dimitri’s protection.