Page 106 of Filthy Little Fix
"We get it," Svetlana says. She's irritated. It's a little funny that her temper is so similar to Dante's. "Get to the point."
I give her the best half-smile I can muster. "After that, he told me Dante was trying to wipe the Malakov name off the map. That's why he was sending me to Ivan Malakov. He implied Ivan had a firmer hand—but I've worked for them before, and Ivan, so the rumors go, is just an unhinged killer. WhatIthink really happened is that regardless of the Volkovs' reaction, Alexei would win. If there was no retaliation, he'd try to blackmail me into working for him; if there was, andthere was, he'd throw me to Ivan as bait, wait for you to dismantle half the empire, and then take over by centralizing it all himself. In his best-case scenario, both Ivan and I would die, and the Volkovs would still be wounded."
Svetlana has no direct reply this time. She and Dmitry pause, thinking about the implications. There's a poorly disguised rivalry between Alexei and Ivan, but confirmation of a planned internal war is new. And it is, as far as we know, aone-sidedwar. Otherwise, Ivan wouldn't accept any gifts from Alexei like this.
It sinks in. I see the reflections of two screens in Svetlana's glasses, Dmitry checks his papers. And Dante tenses.
He doesn't take his eyes off me. I saw the veins in his wrists, his fists clenching. It was at the hypothetical possibility of Ivan killing me.
And fuck, he is so fucking beautiful.
"The analysis matches the movement of Alexei's funds to contingency accounts in the last twelve hours," Dmitry says. "He was preparing to fall back."
"A one-sided war," Dante says. He gets it. He understands where I'm going.
Dmitry considers this with an enthusiastic nod. "At least,visiblyone-sided," he says, running his eyes over the documents on his desk. "We can use this."
Svetlana, through the screen, finally seems to agree. "Alexei's plan is good. It only failed because he was too confident that Sal wouldn't rat him out to us at the first broken finger." She stares at me through the screen. "And because your analysis is correct."
It's the closest thing to a compliment I'm going to get from her.
"Ivan is proud and stupid," Dmitry says. "All we need is an anonymous leak. We'll use Alexei's plan against him. The Malakovs will neutralize each other in a war against their own."
Dante looks at Dmitry, then at the screen where Svetlana is watching us. She looks apprehensive. He stares at me.
"Sal's position is vacant," he says. He doesn't move from where he is, just watches me, arms crossed, his back against the wall next to the window.
Then he gives the order.
"It's yours."
This is the biggest aphrodisiac I've ever felt.
Dopamine. Adrenaline. Serotonin. A fucking symphony of chemicals flooding my brain.
A position. A title. Head of Cybersecurity.Fuck the title. What really matters is answeringto him.
The blood heats in my veins. It thickens. The pain in my bones transforms. It becomes part of the sensation. I want to kneel. Here. Now. In front of all of them. For him. I want to feel him. His hand pulling my hair, his skin leaving marks on mine. His strength. Any real proof that I existforhim.
My breath grows short. I lean forward in the armchair—it's involuntary. I know I'm looking at himthat way. This hunger doesn't belong in a business meeting, but I can't bring myself to care. Not after everything.
"Anything you command, mister," comes out as a whisper.
I'm not hiding it. The desire, the hunger, the submission—it's all written on my face. My whole body is angled toward him. A devotee awaiting communion. And the others in the room are forced to witness this profanity.
Dmitry shifts in his chair. He watches everything with an elegant professionalism, but he sees how I lean. How my entire body points to his brother. How I speak too softly, sweating desire and reverence in an environment that should only smell of power and threat.
He watches. He analyzes. And he decides he's seen enough.
"Sveta, we'll wrap up for now," he says, standing up. "I'll update you later."
Svetlana glares at him for a second, tense. But she understands. She knows.
"Alright," she says. The screen goes dark before she can say goodbye.
"Luca," Dmitry continues, grabbing a folder from the desk. "From now on, Mr. Hays has the same security authority as Sal did. His orders are Dante's orders. Am I clear?"
Luca blinks. His eyes go from me to Dante, then retreat as if he's seen something he shouldn't have.
