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Deluge: Dimitri's Wrath Chapter 2
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2024-10-29 19:42:568:40 am - Dimitri got out of his car on the Moscow Airport runway when his phone rang. It was Alexei. Before he could greet his soldier, the latter spoke. “Boss! It is Mrs. Baranova; she has been taken!” he cries out, clearly disturbed. Dimitri stood up, not comprehending what Alexei had just told him. “Alexei, slow down. What do you mean by my wife has been taken?” He asks and he could hear Michael asking Alexei for the phone. “Boss, it’s Michael. We were not even 5 minutes behind Mrs. Baranova. When we arrived at the Opera House, she was missing, and they left her car open. There was blood splatter on her passenger side window. Whoever took her had left a note.” Michael answers him calmy and Dimitri felt the blood leave his face as he heard the bodyguard speak. Someone had not only taken his wife but hurt her as well. “What does the note say?” he urges.
“’lo scacco matto,’ it means Checkmate in
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3 hours in and still no word. They were waiting on the border of Olivewood and No-mans-land. Dimitri lit up another cigarette and steps out of the Maybach, growing more frustrated by the minute. He knew these types of extractions took time, he only managed to get his mother out 3 days after she was kidnapped. But Amaranthe did not have that kind of time. She was being tortured, had a weak heart, and a child in her womb. That was if the child was still alive. His wife was tough, she knew how to defend herself. This was why her getting taken surprised him so. Was she distracted that morning? Had she given up? He stopped questioning Amaranthe’s motives and raked his fingers through his hair, annoyed at the silence. The Maybach door opens, “Sir,” Michael calls to him and holds out his phone. “Russo is on the line.”Dimitri drops his cigarette and takes the phone from him. “Russo, please tell me you have her.” He urges, the desperation in
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“This is preposterous! The Bratva are not allowed in No-man’s-land!” Luciano Russo exclaimed as he brought his fist down on the table. Dimitri gave him a stern look. “That was to keep the peace. I think The Red Witch and her puppets have done more than just break the truce. It is shattered.” Dimitri answered flatly, to which Luciano sat down, pondering what Dimitri had just said. His eyes moved to the older brother, who was nodding. “I agree. Mia broke the decree set up so many years ago the minute she brought Amy onto Marino land. Dimitri has a right to retribution. Blood for blood.” Antonio Russo spoke up. Dimitri looked at the man who was once his love rival. He expected Antonio to try and stop him, not agree with him.“Thank you. It has been decided then. My men and I attack tonight.” He says and gets up. Cocking his head to Lev and Boris, they exit Antonio’s mansion. It was only him, Lev, and Boris. Alexei and M
December's Symphony: A Mafia Trinity Novel Postlude - Chapter 1
AmarantheHer eyelids felt heavy.Amaranthe opens her eyes to a dimly lit room. “Where am I?” She thinks, her mind muddled and vision blurred. As she attempts to focus her eyes and move, she felt her arms pinned down. Her memories start to resurface. To her horror, the scent of blood hit her and she realized that she was still in the basement. With the Enforcer holding her down so he could make her dirty - destroying her last bit of dignity. “NO!” she struggles to scream out, but he stifled it. “LET ME GO!!” She cries however no words come to the surface. Her body screamed out in agony while trying to get away from him. Then she felt the tears roll down her cheeks and her heart plummeted; her rescue had merely been an elaborate escape mechanism.“Amaranthe!”Why did that sound like Dimitri? Was she losing her mind again? “us
December's Symphony: A Mafia Trinity Novel Postlude: Chapter 2
AmarantheThe private jet touched down in New York. Amaranthe looks over at her husband and sighed. She could not wallow in self-pity anymore. “You are a strong Baranov woman, self-pity does not suit you, my love. Hold your head up high.” He says as he picks her up and settles her into her wheelchair. She peers up at him and nods, “I know.” He did not understand, and she was thinking he never would. No one in their right mind could get tortured then just acclimate to their daily lives as if it never happened. She knew even Lizabeta struggled and yet The Outfit never tortured her. How was she going to get through this? Would Dimitri eventually tire of her and her needs?When they got off the plane, she spotted the Bentayga and smiled. She missed this car and its comforts. Alexei opens the car door for them and gave her a remorseful look. He was still feeling guilty because they captured her while in his care. Even though
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DimitriDimitri stares at his screen, contemplating his next move. The Irish back home were retaliating after he took out their Moscow section 6 months ago. His Brigadier in Russia was handling it as much as he could, but he knew they would go over to Russia soon. Truth be told, he hated New York, Moscow was his home. New York had no pull for him, but his infamy here had been growing even without Viktor Baranov to lead.He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. Move to Moscow or continue in New York?“Lyubov’ moya?” Came the voice of Amaranthe as she knocked on his study door. He smiled at her singsong voice and told her to enter. She opens the door with a smile on her face, and Dimitri’s wind gets knocked from him again. Her beauty was unparalleled, even if she only saw herself as ordinary or plain. That she had grasped his mother tongue meant more to him than he would ever show.
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AmarantheShe listens to Dimitri’s gentle snores and wriggled herself out of his arms. It was 4 am and Amaranthe had woken up with a deathly desire to play her cello. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she glances back at her husband before slipping her nightgown on and grasping her cane. The last and only time she played her cello, her fingers could barely change notes over the fingerboard. They were extremely stiff, and they throbbed. She shoved the instrument down in frustration and had to buy a new one. The last part she did not tell Dimitri about.She saunters towards the music room Dimitri had set up for her and looked around. Her instrument sat beckoning to her. With a sigh, she strides towards the stool and sits down, grabbing her bow and position the cello between her legs. She exhaled, closed her eyes, and playedThe sound that came from the instrument made her heart twinge. Even with the bio-kineticist, her fingers were usele
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Dimitri“Amaranthe, you are beautiful. So much so, that women in your presence are intimidated. You are a queen. Now, please hurry, our guests are expecting us.” Dimitri drawls, exasperation evident in his voice. His wife felt insecure this evening, and he learned why. Her cane made her feel even more insecure than before. “And if anyone tries to say something about your cane, beat them with it.”“Dimitri!” She exclaims and smacks him on his shoulder, but giggles nonetheless. He held her in his arms, “You are exquisite, moye solntse,” He starts, cupping her face in his palms. “Whenever I see you, you take my breath away. What everybody else thought of you should not bother you. You are a Bratva Queen, they are nothing but lowly peasants compared to you. I will keep reminding you of this until you believe it.” He asserts, kissing her forehead. A smile passed over her lips and her shoul
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AmarantheShe caught the look Dimitri gave her and took off. The Irishman was bad news, and if her husband thought so, she would be a fool not to listen. Linking her arms with Anya again, she cocks her head to where she stood before. “Do you recognize that man I was talking to just now?” She asked Anya, and the latter shook her head. “Nah. I was chatting to that designer from Washington. Why what’s up?” She asked, taking a sip of her champagne.Amaranthe could not describe how slimy the man made her feel, like he had been deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable. She shudders. “I think Dimitri knows him, but he sort of warned me to stay away from the guy with the shake of his head.” Anya stared at her and a furrowed her brow, “Wait, can you describe him to me?” she abruptly asks and Amaranthe shrugs. “Tall, blonde hair that was longer on top, but had a darker undercut. Oh, g
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