A Lock Of Death by Beena Khan

21

Dimitri had returned to New York.

Nine was at the penthouse in a different skyscraper.

Now, he stood in one of their warehouses. The granite dark gray place gloomed around him. It was empty, and it reeked of desolation and death.

Eyeing the two people bound in chairs and rope before him, he bent down and took out his pocketknife from his boot.

Bullets wouldn’t be enough for them.

He eyed the woman before him.

Gospel Silver.

Madame Gospel.

Then, his gaze fell on the tall man.

Henry Stevens.

His footsteps moved and circled them like a hunter.

He stopped in front of Gospel first, avoiding Stevens for now. She lifted her hazy eyes and met his gaze.

“So, Gospel,” he began in his grave voice, “Why did you let Boris into Nine’s room when you knew he was not allowed to be alone with her?”

Gospel whimpered and tears ran down her face.

“I didn’t do anything!” she protested.

He held his blade in the air. “Do not lie to me.”

Gospel fell quiet again.

“I know where your family lives, Gospel. So, tell me the truth,” he spoke calmly.

She blew out a breath and her head hung in shame.

“I-I just needed the money. He paid me to keep his secret,” she muttered.

Dimitri’s body stilled. “So, you let him touch her?”

Her frightened eyes met his before narrowing.

“How is it any different than what you did? You were planning on delivering her anyway!” Gospel protested hoarsely under her breath.

Dimitri raised an eyebrow and stared stonily.

“There is a difference.”

Gospel looked at him questioningly.

Henry Stevens hadn’t spoken one word at all.

Dimitri ran his finger down the flat of his blade, keeping eye contact with her.

“I stopped.”

Gospel’s eyes widened.

“I changed my mind. You continued.”

Dumbfounded, she looked at him with her mouth open like a gasping fish. Her eyes glittered and tears rolled down her face.

“I made a mistake. P-Please don’t hurt me!”

“You betrayed the Bratva,” he murmured. “You disobeyed mine and Pakhan’s direct order.” He didn’t bother telling her that he disobeyed his own Pakhan too.

That was his shit to clean up, not hers.

Now, he stood directly behind her.

She couldn’t look at him without twisting her own neck.

“I’m a woman! Please don’t hurt a woman.”

He blinked. That tactic wouldn’t work on him.

“I judge and execute everyone equally.”

Without warning, he reached forward and placed the blade under her throat. Ignoring the protests still sputtering out of her mouth, he slit her throat.

The bitter aroma of blood gushed onto his hand and her head plopped low, resting on her chest.

Stevens screamed like he had been the one gutted.

Dimitri’s eyes fell on the man sniffling in the chair. Lowering his gaze to the floor, he sniffed the tangy air and figured the man had pissed himself.

He moved forward, standing in front of Stevens now.

The man’s eyes were filled with sheer terror.

“I’m Dimitri Nikolaev,” he spoke, introducing himself.

He wanted the man to know his name.

Stevens’ pale face reddened before he protested, “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

Dimitri tilted his head and moved his shoulders, the knots cracking in his body as he did. He stared the man dead in the eye as he spoke. “Thirteen years ago, you harmed a young girl.”

Stevens’ eyes widened.

“Then, you sold her to the Ace Outlaws.”

Tears rolled down the man’s face.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Dimitri only stared stonily. “I’m sure you do.”

Wiping the blade back and forth on the bottom of his shirt, he tucked it back into his boot. The man, Stevens, sighed in relief and Dimitri held a smile in.

A blade was too small of a punishment for what he’d done.

The man continued to protest, but Dimitri only ignored and observed him, memorizing his face and imprinting it to his mind.

A movement caught his eyes and his gaze fell on the man who came up next to him with a confident stride.

He met the eyes of his Boss.

His Pakhan.

Alexander Nikolaev.

His brother’s black eyes held his before staring at the man.

Those eyes were so different from his own.

They looked the complete opposite, and people had to stare closely to tell that they were related. Alexander kept his hair long, styled, and neatly tucked behind his ears. It reached the back of his nape. His trimmed beard was tidy, a stark contrast to Dimitri’s clean-shaven face.

The fitted blazer he wore was fitted onto his skin, highlighting his lean muscles. Dimitri always preferred simpler clothes. He preferred blending in the crowd than standing out.

His brother, on the other hand, could be a professional model if his handsome face didn’t fool anyone.

Alexander’s eyes twinkled. “Hello, Dima.”

Dimitri crossed his arms over his chest.

“Did you miss me on your trip?” his brother asked.

If Dimitri was in a better mood, he would have rolled his eyes, but that took too much effort.

After a beat, he narrowed his eyes and questioned, “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting later?”

Alexander averted his eyes and landed on Stevens.

“I wanted to see this man.”

Dimitri stayed silent as he coolly observed his brother.

“I didn’t know he existed. Nine never mentioned him to me,” Alexander continued.

Dimitri glanced at the bound man who still protested.

“You went back for the club’s President.”

“I did,” Alexander only replied.

Dimitri turned and studied his older brother. “Why?”

Alexander met his eyes head-on.

“Because I didn’t want him to come looking for her.”

With a calm mind, Dimitri spoke again.

“You can give me whatever punishment you like, but I will not give Nine to you.”

When his brother didn’t reply, he continued. “Take my title if you want but not her. If you try to steal her back from me, I will burn this kingdom to the ground,” he vowed.

The Bratva organization was Dimitri’s cause, his home, all he had ever known, but Nine was his home too. If the Bratva would make him choose, he would pick her.

Both brothers glanced at each other.

Surprise filled Alexander’s eyes.

“You would turn against me and our cause?”

Dimitri shook his head. “No. But I would protect her the same way you look out for Ghislaine.”

Alexander sighed and he glared at Dimitri like he wanted to scold him. “You need to stop using Little Bird against me. She’s still upset with me, anyway.”

Dimitri arched an eyebrow.

“As long as you don’t go after Nine.”

The playful twinkle in his brother’s black eyes returned.

“You sound whipped as fuck.”

Dimitri only blinked.

“You were whipped first. I’m only following my leader.”

Alexander chuckled before he turned to look at Stevens.

“What is so special about Nine?” he questioned.

Dimitri countered, “What is so special about Ghislaine?”

Alexander exhaled.

Dimitri stayed silent too.

A beat later, they both spoke simultaneously.

“She’s a survivor.”

Surprised, they both glanced at each other.

They spoke again simultaneously.

“Her darkness.”

Alexander narrowed his eyes.

Dimitri’s jaw ticked.

They spoke again simultaneously.

“She’s my equal.”

Silence fell over them now.

“Jesus, Dima,” Alexander muttered under his breath before shaking his head in disbelief. “Congratulations on finding a woman as fucked up as you,” he continued with a twinkle in his eyes. “I guess we attract crazy.”

Dimitri rolled his eyes, but his lip twitched.

“You too.”

Alexander turned to face forward again.

“You will still be my Second in Command.”

Dimitri stilled and his body turned rigid.

“I will always protect you.”

He remembered that childhood promise.

“Nothing will come between us and if someone ever does, I’ll… accept them,” Alexander finished.

Dimitri’s shoulders sagged.

“Just don’t pull that shit again, Bratan.”

Alexander turned around and moved away from the spot.

Dimitri thought he’d left but he brought back a can.

Kerosene.

Dimitri’s specialty.

“With every good deed you do, I should be here to the honors and bless it, don’t you think, Dima?” Alexander joked with a glint in his dark eyes.

Dimitri raised his eyebrows. “You’re fucked up.”

Alexander moved toward Stevens in his fancy satin suit and shrugged. “Most killers are.”

Unhooking the can, Alexander poured the oil down the man’s body. Stevens shook his head and screamed while protests still left his mouth. Once he finished, he tossed the can aside and stepped beside Dimitri.

Dimitri pulled out the match he carried with him.

Igniting a spark, he threw it on the glistening man.

Dimitri’s eyes gleamed as the orange flames swayed in the air before they engulfed the man and melted his face.

He liked the fire and the burning.

One of the worst deaths to give, plus it made the faces unrecognizable. The smell of flesh sizzled in the air around them. The man's shouts and anguish screams filled the air. He liked hearing those tormented sounds.

Music to his fucking ears.

Adrenaline pumped through Dimitri’s body as he took in the sight. The atmosphere heated, and the back of his neck trickled with sweat. He wished Nine could have seen it too. Soon, nothing but burnt flesh and bones would be left behind.

Dimitri and Alexander turned to leave.

The man screamed through the fire, “It wasn’t just my fault!”

Both brothers paused in footsteps.

“You have to listen to me!” the man continued screaming even though he was being burnt alive. “It wasn’t just my fault!”