The all-too-familiar pain of knuckles connecting to my side sent me to the ground inside the makeshift fighting area located in an empty room next to the gym, which was only used when Luca visited.
On my hands and knees, I lifted my head in search of the six-foot Belgian former assassin circling me, a knife in hand. Luca had tossed it into the fighting area a few minutes ago from where he stood on the perimeter. Normally, he waited for more blows to be exchanged before adding a weapon, but I’d only taken a few hits thus far today.
I’d sustained four knife wounds in the last year, though. Each one a slash against my hope that I’d someday be free of this place. With every cut, every mark on my skin, I’d come closer to giving in, to surrendering and accepting defeat.
Thinking back, I should have seen something like this coming.
Luca and I met six years ago in Paris, shortly after I’d left New York and found Sebastian. I’d immediately assessed him as an arrogant jerk, and I couldn’t believe Sebastian considered him a friend. Luca gave me the creeps, and I never hid the fact I thought his motives and actions were questionable. He was curiously possessive of Sebastian and made it clear he merely tolerated my presence. For my part, I did my best to avoid him. However, since Sebastian had known Luca for much longer than even me, and he’d been like a brother to him, he’d been a bit blind to my unease and deaf to my warnings. Turns out, my concerns had been justified.
And now, Luca was successfully beating me down mentally, emotionally, and physically. Forcing me to fight both women and men for sport.
I wasn’t Edward Norton or Brad Pitt in Fight Club, but Luca may have watched that movie one too many times. He’d created a set of rules to prevent my ass getting handed to me too quickly. After all, it wouldn’t take much for a big guy to crush me, kill me. Luca’s rules were his sick way of prolonging the entertainment, but they’d also saved my life.
No headshots allowed from man to woman.
No kicks below the waist.
A woman was given sixty seconds to get in a few shots before a man could return contact.
Woman to woman fighting, though—anything was fair game, same with man to man. And let me tell you, most of my major injuries had come from women.
But today, Luca had stepped things up, he’d paired me with one of the toughest men at the prison. An assassin whose preferred method of murder was a knife.
I’d also witnessed two men die when Luca hadn’t stepped in to stop the Belgian, more than willing to let them duke it out to the death.
“Get up, Alessia! Don’t make this boring,” Luca hollered, pulling my gaze to him. He rolled the brown sleeves of his designer-brand cashmere sweater to his elbows and adjusted the front material of his khaki pants as if this picture turned him on. Seeing me weak and down . . .
And yet, part of me wanted to fall flat onto the ground and say No, not today, Satan!
“Stop!”
Startled by the booming voice I recognized as Dimitri, I shifted to see him standing off to the side of the ring, removing his black shirt, revealing the ripple of muscle.
He strode toward me as if Luca didn’t own the place, his green eyes connecting with mine. “I’m done watching you have her hurt like this. Even for you, this is wrong.” Dimitri extended a hand and helped me to my feet, then turned and stood towering in front of me like a shield as he faced Luca. “What of your precious League rules, Moreau?”
“What do you know of League rules?” Luca sneered as he waved an approaching guard to back off so he could face Dimitri. “How many women have you killed in your years?”
Dimitri slowly shook his head and responded nyet. His back muscles tightened as he continued, his tone ominous, “Stop forcing her to fight. She does not belong in this ring.”
“I think not.” Luca’s clipped tone was harsh on my ears.
“You don’t need to do this.” I reached for Dimitri’s arm, but his focus remained on Luca, the two men locked in a stare down.
Luca was selective with who he invited to the fights. Many were itching to throw down because, well, they were criminals. But Dimitri kept to himself. I never saw him talk to anyone. And unlike others, he refused to fight. He wouldn’t be coerced by Luca into dueling with anyone. Luca had tried to force him to fight several times before, and whenever he said nyet, Luca threw him into solitary confinement as punishment, and when Dimitri was released from the “hole,” he was black and blue. Beaten to a pulp, as a message to others not to say no. And yet, it didn’t seem to stop Dimitri from standing his ground.
I didn’t say no. Instead, I refused to fight back, too worried that Luca would force a guard into beating me up in confinement. I knew that would hurt the guards as much as it hurt me. For the most part, they were good men and powerless to stand up to Luca, the same as us.
“Let. Me. Fight.” Dimitri enunciated each word, then repeated them in Russian, confidence blanketing his tone, filling the air around us.
What? I ducked out from behind Dimitri for a better vantage point of Luca.
“About damn time.” Luca clapped his hands together.
Son of a bitch. Luca had used me to get Dimitri to fight the Belgian, which had to mean Dimitri had a soul. Luca was preying upon a perceived weakness—Dimitri would protect a woman. I had no idea who Dimitri really was, but I didn’t want someone taking hits on my account.
“Get them out of here,” Luca instructed the guards, pointing to the six inmates who had their backs to the cement wall, watching us at the center of the room.
The three gun-wielding guards ushered the men out, leaving me alone with one guard, Luca, Dimitri, and the Belgian assassin.
“But first, tell me what I want to know, and then you can save her by fighting instead.” Luca smiled, brushing his hand through his longish brown hair, the tips a honey color as if he’d had his locks recently dyed.
Oh, God. This was all a trick. It didn’t have anything to do with fighting. Luca wanted information from Dimitri, and like hell would I let this man who was willing to risk his neck for me get used.
Dimitri went silent.
“No.” My hands went to my hips, and I drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll fight.”
The heavy door opened to the room, and another guard stepped in. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s Sebastian Renaud. He says it’s urgent.” His words had my heart skydiving into my stomach as I spied the phone clutched in his hand.
“Sebas—”
Luca lunged forward and covered my mouth with his hand, stifling my scream. “End the call! I’ll phone him back soon,” he demanded, and the guard stepped back into the hall, killing my hope.
I bit into Luca’s finger, and he quickly retracted his hand and slapped me across the face while cursing.
Dimitri was at my side before I knew it, and the only guard now in the room aimed a rifle our way with Dimitri’s balled hand suddenly hovering in front of Luca’s face.
Luca kissed the air, a challenge to go ahead and hit him, but I grabbed hold of Dimitri’s arm, urging him to back down before anyone else got hurt.
The sting of Luca’s slap was replaced by the fear of what he would do next.
Dimitri slowly lowered his hand, his chest puffing out with anger.
“Take this man back to the hole,” Luca ordered. “Looks like we’ll need to reschedule the fight,” he said while glimpsing the Belgian as the man cracked his neck. “I have a call to make.” Luca’s smile stretched, his eyes meeting mine, and I charged at him, unable to stop myself.
“Bastard!” I cried, but Luca caught my wrists and flung me to the ground.
On my back, I watched the guard haul Dimitri away, and another enter for the assassin, leaving me alone with my enemy.
“One of these days, no one will step in to save you, including me.”
* * *
Luca left yesterday. No sign of Dimitri yet. He’d been in the hole since he’d stood up to Luca on my behalf yesterday.
When I’d first a
rrived at the prison, I rarely left my room. Now? I needed out of that confined space as much as humanly possible, even if it meant mixing with criminals.
I was inside the gym, which was fairly decent. It wasn’t luxurious, but it had a lot of equipment. Even two treadmills. Running had become a much-needed outlet, a way to release some tension. When I ran, my legs may have been in Russia, but my head was in New York City or Dublin.
I was in Central Park running by cherry blossoms and passing the children playing.
Jogging along River Liffey.
Walking through Phoenix Park.
I could feel the sun on my face. The warm embrace of the cities I loved.
Some days, I even caught a glimmer of Cole stepping out of his limo, entering the gates of the park, waiting to take me to dinner. To a movie. Waiting to kiss me after a long day of work.
I set the eight-kilo weight on the rack as Dimitri entered the doorway to the gym. His right eye was swollen shut. Bruises colored his forearms.
Looking my way, Dimitri angled his head toward the hallway, and I realized he meant for me to follow.
When I reached the hall, I found a guard waiting outside the gym. “What’s going on?”
“He’s bringing us to a place where we can talk out of earshot of everyone else,” Dimitri explained.
How’d he manage to turn a guard? He probably didn’t know what would happen to a guard if they betrayed Luca, though. Of course, just because Dimitri helped me the other day, didn’t mean he’d care enough about a guard.
“It’s okay,” the guard said, motioning for us to follow him down a hall I’d never traveled, one I had to assume had no surveillance cameras.
We stepped inside a bedroom a minute later on the second level. The guard’s room?
It was about twice the size of mine, with a full-size bed, dresser, and nightstand. “What’s going on?”
Dimitri pressed his back to the wall near the door and held his hand out for me to sit on the bed once the guard closed the door, leaving us alone. “Are you a friend of Sebastian Renaud? Family, maybe?”
Shock moved through me.
An unexpected twist.
But the truth would kill him.
“No.” I hated that word more than ever.
“You’re lying. What’s your real name? Who are you?”
I couldn’t help but respond by lifting my eyes. “He’ll have you killed if he knows you’re aware of the truth,” I admitted, finding it hard to look at him with his one eye shut, feeling responsible for whatever pain he’d suffered because of me.
“He’ll kill me anyway.” He tipped his head to the side. “Tell me. There were rumors he had an American sister. Is it true? Are you her?” He pushed his hands into his khaki pants pockets, his broad shoulders remaining against the wall. “My family probably believes me to be dead, too.”
“How-how’d you know?” Surprise chased straight to my bones. “I mean, yes. I’m his sister, and he believes me dead, too.” I exhaled and said, “Alessia Romano.” And I only hoped I didn’t get him killed.
“Luca will only keep me alive until he gets what he wants from me. I will be of little use to him after that.” His tone was dry, his words flat and emotionless. No expression on his face, but maybe it was too hard to make one given his current state. “But you need to understand that I can’t give him any information. I won’t endanger my family.”
He’d fight to save me, but he couldn’t fight if it meant sacrificing his loved ones. I understood that.
Dimitri was probably Cole’s age, but he appeared a bit harder around the edges. “Are you innocent like me?”
The side of his lip lifted a touch at my words. “Not so much. But I am not like Luca. I am a criminal, but I don’t hurt innocent people.”
And who decided who was innocent? “Your family? Who are they?”
“Mob. A very powerful one.”
“Oh.” My eyes widened at his confession.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me. I would never hurt a woman, especially not the sister of Sebastian. My family respects him.”
“But my brother is friends with Luca,” I sputtered, and I wasn’t sure why in God’s name I said that. “Well, Sebastian doesn’t know the kind of man Luca is . . . clearly.”
“When my family discovers who is responsible for my death, there will be no mercy.”
I stood in a rush and crossed the space between us. “Your death?”
“I will die here.” Without thinking, I pressed a hand to his chest. He was my possible chance to escape. He was our way out of here. “But I am trying to buy myself some time before that happens. At some point, Luca will grow tired of torturing me, and he will kill me before someone learns the truth. But your fate has yet to be decided. Don’t let him win.” He whispered the same words in Russian, then said, “You have to fight. I can teach you when he’s not here.”
“I can’t.” I turned away from him, chills racing over my skin. “And if that guard respects you enough to let us talk, then surely we can ask him to help release us.”
“I told you I don’t hurt innocent people. If that man helps us, he will be hurt, and you know that. And not just him, but his wife and daughters as well. His entire family.”
A Russian mobster with a conscience. Did he only kill fellow criminals?
“You won’t die. We can fight this.” I whirled around to face him, finding his brows drawn together. “We can find a way to prevent anyone other than Luca getting hurt.”
“Luca is a devious man. He found a way to get to me. I’m the next in line to take over for my family’s organization, so I’ve been targeted before, but all attempts to get me have failed. I don’t believe The League is responsible, but—”
“Luca’s working with The Alliance,” I interrupted. “He’s betraying The League.”
“The Alliance.” He let go of a heavy breath. “That explains it.” He grew quiet for a moment. “You remind me of my sister, and she’s a fighter. She knows how to defend herself, and I believe it is time you learn to do the same. You think by not fighting you’re not playing Luca’s games, but you will get yourself killed. And I can’t fight on your behalf without betraying my family. I’m sorry.”
I sat back down, my legs unable to hold my weight when my body felt so heavy. “And you really can teach me?”
He nodded. “Yes. Let me help you. No more getting hurt, you hear me?”
“Why do you care? Because I remind you of your sister?” I still didn’t quite understand.
“Everyone will meet their maker. There is no escaping death. But if I am going to die, I, at least, want my debt repaid to Sebastian before it happens.”
“Your debt?”
“My sister,” he said, his voice softer now. “She’s stubborn. Ivana loves to ditch her bodyguards. One of those times, though, she wound up being taken. The men didn’t know who she was, and once she informed them, they considered ransoming her back to my family, but negotiations failed, and we did not get her back.”
“I don’t understand how my brother—”
“Sebastian killed the men who had her. Serbian human traffickers. He freed all the women and children that’d been held captive, including her.”
I drew a hand to my mouth in surprise and sealed my eyes shut.
“I don’t believe your brother even knew she was one of the women he rescued. And my family chose to keep the matter under wraps, worried our enemies would think we were weak and attempt a similar attack when they realized we had been open to negotiations.”
“Sebastian was led to believe those men took my life. Had he not been deceived into seeking revenge on my behalf, your sister may not have been saved.” I kept my voice soft, the truth like a heavy hand pressing down on my chest. The sound of his steps edging closer to the bed had my lids parting.
“Well, you see, the least I can do is try and save his sister the way he saved mine.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alessia
>
Dublin – Present Day
I hadn’t spoken a word to Cole during the entire ride back to the hotel. Not a single syllable inside the elevator. I didn’t have a right to yell at him, but I still wanted to.
I flew around to face him once we were alone in my suite. His body was as rigid as a board, his jaw clenched tight, and his eyes burned with anger. I could tell he was working hard to keep himself from unleashing on me as he ripped at the buttons on his cuffs and shoved rather than rolled his sleeves to his elbows. The silent ride to the hotel had ramped his frustration level all the way to ten out of ten. To say he was furious with me for putting myself in danger tonight was an understatement.
“How do you know about the scars?” I bent down to remove my heels, and when I stood straight again, his back was to me. His knuckles to the wall. “Tell me,” I demanded as if I had any right to the truth given all the lies I’d been spinning.
“Sunday. When I came rushing into your room in a towel, I saw the ones on your stomach,” he began, still not facing me. “Your shirt was lifted from thrashing around during the nightmare.”
I closed my eyes, pissed at myself for thinking he’d betrayed my trust by checking me while I’d been asleep.
The man really was a saint, and I was doing everything in my power to keep him safe and prevent him from becoming a sinner like me.
I knew it was wrong to continue lying to him. My brother had kept secrets from me, and secrets almost always ended in pain. I’d been ignoring that bit of truth, but after tonight there was no way around being honest, even if that meant having to change my plans.
It was time.
Cole deserved to know . . . everything.
I nervously grasped the side zipper of my dress, keeping my eyes closed, unsure if I wanted to see his reaction when he finally turned to face me, then peeled the zipper down and let the black material fall to my feet. “I have four scars.”
The room was quiet. So quiet I heard my heartbeat pulsing in my ears.
At the touch of his hand, I opened my eyes, finding him on his knees before me, his thumb tracing the scar on my hip, his focus on the mark.
The Inside Man: A Dublin Nights Novel Page 21