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“No. Tony..” I start but it’s like he doesn’t even hear me.
He advances on Dimitri, his fists clenched. He punches him so hard he goes flying backward, landing like a heap on the floor. Tony grabs the knife he dropped before moving to crouch beside him.
“You know I knew you were an idiot, but I didn’t think you were suicidal. I’ve actually been wondering where you’ve been hiding out. I still need to pay you back for what happened to Michael. And then you decide to show up in front of me. How dare you do that to her? And right in front of me too.”
The person speaking sounds exactly like Tony and yet someone not like him again. There’s a carefully contained rage in his voice and yet he manages to sound calm and in control. I feel a chill run through me.
“You just threatened the woman I’m in love with, Dimitri.”
My heart stops at the sound of the confession. I knew but he’s never actually said the words before. Neither of us have. But anything I’m feeling in relation to hearing it is quickly overshadowed by the sight of Tony slicing Dimitri’s arm open. Blood rushes out and I place my hand against my lips, my eyes wide.
Dimitri screams, clutching at his arm.
“Shush, it’s fine,” he says, his voice gentle. It’s a little scary. “I’m only trying to get the alcohol out of your system. I hear bleeding out is an effective way to do that. I need you sober when I kill you.”
When he slices Dimitri’s thigh and another horrendous cry goes out, I decide to step forward. I can’t keep watching this. I place a hand on his shoulder.
“Tony,” I call. “Tony look at me.”
For a second I’m worried he doesn’t hear me. But he does and when he looks up at me, his brown eyes are filled with a darkness that worries me.
“That’s enough,” I say softly.
His eyes narrow, “He held a knife to your throat, Sophia.”
“And I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. You need to let him go.”
“No,” Tony growls.
“Tony, you do realize that if you kill him you’ll be inviting the wrath of half the Russian Bratva on us.”
He doesn’t reply, his eyes moving back to Dimitri’s who’s struggling to get to his feet.
“Just let him go. Please. Do it for me,” I beg. “Do it for our baby.”
That finally gets through to him. His jaw clenches as he rises to his feet.
“Get the fuck out of my sight, Antonov. If I see you again, I’ll finish what I started.”
He throws the knife and it clatters to the ground in front to Dimitri who dumbly stares at us for a few more seconds. I grit my teeth making a face for him to beat it. I can’t believe how pathetic he’s become. It’s honestly embarrassing that I dated a man like him in the first place. He finally stumbles away, clutching his arm and leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Tony leads me inside our house and as soon as we’re inside, he let out a breath of relief. We take a seat on the couch and he pulls me into his lap, holding me tight.
When I feel his hand tremble at my back, I pull away to look him in the eye.
“Hey,” I say, placing a hand under his jaw. “I’m fine. Completely safe.”
“I hate seeing you in danger. Watching you like that, I swear it felt like my heart was about to combust. I wouldn’t survive it if anything happened to you, Sophia,” he says gruffly.
“I’m fine though. Completely fine. There’s not even a scratch on me.”
He glares before placing his hand on my throat, right on the area where Dimitri held the knife. I wince slightly.
“That’s more than a scratch,” he mutters. “I should have punched him harder.”
I sigh softly, knowing I can’t put off this conversation any long.
“My mom always used to say something when she was alive,” I start. Tony’s eyes soften, his gaze immediately attentive. “She was the daughter of a very dangerous man in the Russian Bratva and then when she married Papa, she became the wife of a Don in the mafia. Her entire life she was surrounded by the death and loss that comes with her position. The constant danger, the inability to trust people. It’s very easy to lose yourself when that happens. People in our world tend to carry this darkness that clings to them until it becomes them.”
