Ruthless Mafia King: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance
Ruthless Mafia King: Chapter 17

It’s been three days since I’ve visited Katarina. I’m angry at myself for dropping my guard and letting her stab a fork into my arm. But I’m even more furious for losing my mind and kissing her. As painful as the bite was, I deserved it. It’s a reminder that she’s not to be trusted.

I’ve been spending my days in the office, trying to keep up the pretense.

Dimitri has called me six times during the past forty-eight hours. With the way he treated me at his house, I have no obligation to take his calls. As far as I’m concerned, he can go to hell. That’s the official story at least. No one knows that I have Katarina. It seems like Yakov Gargarin knows how to keep his mouth shut.

A soft knock on the door gets my attention. I lift my head up from the pile of documents on my desk.

“Come in,” I call out.

I’m expecting to see my secretary, but instead, it’s Ivan who walks in. His presence makes me straighten in my seat, my brows furrowing.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Dimitri and Igor are in the elevator,” Ivan tells me. “They’re on their way up to see you.”

There’s no relief in my expression. It wasn’t too hard to guess why Dimitri and Igor are here. I’ve been expecting them.

“Get Roman and Peter,” I order. “I want the three of you here with me when they come.”

“Should I tell them to bring guns?”

“Yes, but conceal them,” I reply with a nod. “We’re not shooting anyone, not if it can be avoided.”

Though I try to sound calm, I can’t pretend that I’m not feeling the tension in my muscles. The only good thing that could come out of this would be getting rid of Igor and Dimitri for good.

Another knock comes from the door. This time, it’s Roman with Ivan and Peter on his heels. They enter, and I wave them over. Their faces are grim. They know to stay quiet and let me do all the talking.

“I’ve stationed men along the hallway,” Peter tells me. “If this goes south, we’ll be ready.”

I nod but don’t comment. I’m saving my words for Dimitri Sokolov.

This time, it’s my secretary who knocks on the door. I gesture to Peter to open it, allowing our guests to enter.

Dimitri waltzes in like he’s the king of the goddamn world. His broad shoulders roll with confidence. But Igor slithers like a serpent, ready to pounce on his prey. This level of caution is unlike him.

“What a surprise,” I say sarcastically.

Dimitri smirks.

His smile is self-assured, charming, and ruthless. He extends his hand to me, but I only glance at it. There’s no way I’m shaking his hand as if we are friends.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced,” he starts. “But you haven’t taken any of my calls, so I figured perhaps I could catch you here. It’s rather important.”

“I’m all ears,” I say in a neutral voice, acting clueless.

“Have you seen Katarina?”

I lean back in my chair, raising my hands up behind my head. “No, not lately. Why?”

“She hasn’t been home in the past few days.”

“You think I have something to do with it?” I feign offense.

Dimitri arches one of his brows. “It’s in your best interest if you let her go unharmed.”

“That’s interesting,” I retort calmly. My tone sounds so genuine that even I can’t believe my words are lies. “Do I hear someone threatening me or were my ears malfunctioning? Did you guys hear the same thing?”

Roman, Ivan, and Peter all make a disapproving sound.

Dimitri opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t let him interrupt me. Instead, I get to my feet. Despite my effort to act unfazed, it’s hard to ignore the sweat sliding down my spine. “But you’re right, Sokolov. I do have Katarina.”

Surprise registers on his face. He wasn’t expecting me to confess. His reaction is almost comical, and I push my amusement away.

The air is suddenly full of tension. Like everybody’s readying themselves for a physical assault.

I’m not foolish enough to fall into this trap.

“Before you try anything rash, allow me to warn you,” I say, tilting my head to the side. “If I’m harmed in any way, you’ll never see your daughter again.”

His fingers twitch. I have his attention now. His skin grows pale, his dark hair and eyebrows intensifying.

He recovers quickly. “What do you want?”

“From her, nothing,” I reply. “It’s you that’s indebted to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Dimitri demands. His eyes dart toward the door, as if to reassure himself that he can leave whenever he feels like it.

“I delivered a shipment of guns to you,” I tell him, meeting his stare with my own. “The agreed payment was Katarina’s hand in marriage. I’m only making sure you keep up your part of the deal.”

Dimitri purses his lips together. From the way his body tenses and his shoulders square back, he’s trying to keep his composure. Not used to hearing the word no, Dimitri’s even less thrilled to have witnesses to his moment of defeat.

“And besides,” I add, “you should be happy to have me as your son-in-law. Just think of all the things we’ll do together once we’re family.”

The words are bait, my way of breaking him. They hit Dimitri exactly where they intended to.

I’m not surprised when Igor loses control over himself. His nostrils flare as he steps forward. Peter and Ivan grab the handles of their pistols. All it takes is a second for the situation to fall apart.

“I’m going to kill you.” Igor’s voice is hoarse as he screeches the threat. “I’m going to make you pay for all the suffering you caused our family.”

“All the suffering I caused you?” I repeat, letting my mask slip. “What about what you did to me, Igor? Do you have any inkling what I’m talking about, or are those memories too blurry for your drunken ass?”

Before Igor can reply, Dimitri grabs his arm and pulls him back. There’s a collective exhale as the men surrounding me relax. One more step and the tension would’ve gotten to be too much to resolve without bloodshed.

“This isn’t over,” Dimitri growls. “I’ll find a way to get Katarina back, and when I do, you’ll regret ever being born.”

“So long, then,” I say and wink at him.

Angry silence engulfs Dimitri, but he’s smart enough not to attack while facing such steep odds. I couldn’t care less how many guns they have with them. If a shootout were to break out, they’d lose. As it is, they realize they don’t have the upper hand.

With these words, Dimitri Sokolov tips his chin upward. Anger streams off him. Igor is visibly conflicted as he leaves my office. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to keep his dignity intact.

Once the door closes and we’re alone again, Roman, Peter, and Ivan seem to exhale in sync.

“Shit,” Peter utters, putting the safety back on.

I motion for Ivan to get us something to drink. A few shots of vodka are exactly what I need to soothe my frayed nerves.

“This was intense,” Roman comments.

Ivan hands me my glass. I raise it in a toast.

“To surviving one more day,” I say with a wicked smile.

Roman, Peter, and Ivan laugh. It could be either from nervousness or delight, but it doesn’t matter. I down the shot and pour another one.

It’s a celebratory drink.

I’ve pushed Dimitri to the brink. He won’t disobey me, and while we stand on opposite sides, there’s not much he can do.

“To your upcoming wedding,” Roman says, raising his glass up.

“To my wedding,” I say, a smile forming on my lips as my boys clink and wish me luck.

Katarina definitely knows how to keep me on my toes. I expect that our next meeting will be quite eventful.

And I’ll enjoy every single minute of it.