Page 51 of Twisted Addiction
Giovanni’s shrug was almost careless. “You know how he gets. Especially when it’s you.”
The words slid under my skin like ice.
Especially when it’s you.
I looked at the corpse again—its lifeless weight not just a warning, but a claim.
Dmitri hadn’t punished a stranger. He’d made a statement.
He’d marked territory. Mine.
The need to run—truly run—hit me with blinding clarity.
“He didn’t have to go this far,” I whispered, my gaze fixed on the pavement, refusing to meet the corpse’s vacant stare.
Giovanni gave another indifferent shrug. “No one tells Dmitri what to do—or how to react.”
“He’s declared war on the Morozovs,” I said, my voice hollow. “He killed their only heir—publicly humiliated him. They’ll come for blood.”
“Yeah,” Giovanni replied, almost casual, as if war were just another Tuesday.
Then, with a faint smirk: “So... how was your first day?”
Chapter 13
PENELOPE
They had literally torn a man apart and left him for me to see, and he had the nerve to ask about my day.
I said nothing at first, letting my legs carry me to the car on autopilot, the dead man’s image burned into my vision.
“Just... perfect,” I said, voice low, heavy with disbelief. “Really sets the tone for a first day at work. Nothing says ‘welcome’ like public dismemberment, right?”
I pressed my hands to my thighs, trying to ground myself, to keep the panic from rising, but the bile in my stomach refused to settle.
“Who got you out?” I asked, voice tight, brittle, as if even speaking might make me vomit.
“Dmitri,” Giovanni said, limping toward the driver’s side. “He decided mercy was in order.”
I laughed bitterly, sharp and humorless. “Mercy? You mean after a week of hell with no one coming for you? That’s... typical.”
“He’s not pleased I took his wife to that illegal underground race,” Giovanni muttered, sliding behind the wheel. “It’s his way of punishing me. And trust me, I’m lucky he even decided to bail me after a week. Get in. Let’s go.”
I moved to open the door, still half in shock, when a voice cut through the night.
“Hey!”
Elena stood under the streetlights, dark hair pulled into a severe bun, expression unreadable
“Ma’am... my sister is insistent. She wants to meet you—not here, somewhere private. She says... there are things you should know. Important things.”
I froze, irritation flaring like wildfire and claws digging into my chest.
“I don’t care what she has to say. I’m not meeting her. And I don’t want another word about your sister.” My voice was sharp, edged with disbelief and a thread of unease I couldn’t ignore.
Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Understood,” she said, voice clipped, and she turned on her heel.
I exhaled, a flicker of curiosity gnawing at me despite myself.
