I ate my food quietly, pondering Dimitri’s last words. He sat across from me on his own cot, focused entirely on the plate in his lap.
I was still reeling from everything that had happened, so the moment to gather my thoughts was a welcome one. I studied him covertly out of the corner of my eye as I ate. My body zinged to life.
Jesus fucking Christ. I had to be the most idiotic person on the planet. The man had literally been a heartbeat away from killing me, and yet I wanted to jump on his cock and ride him while he had one of my tits in his mouth.
He was just so…powerful. He was doing nothing but sitting there eating, his back leaning against the cell bars, one knee hiked up, completely at ease but somehow radiating a dark, dangerous vibe that made shivers dance down my spine. It was just him. The way he was. Masculine energy literally dripped off him, vibrated around him—the kind of energy that warned you not to get too close to him. That he had the power to snap your neck with his bare fucking hands, which I knew to be completely true. I’d seen it with my own eyes.
I picked up one of the roasted potatoes and popped it into my mouth, silently berating myself. It wasn’t the time to let my libido take the reins. I had to get a fucking grip, get my hormones under control and start thinking logically.
It made it easier that the man had shown zero interest in me, sexual or otherwise, since I’d met him. I wasn’t the type to chase after someone who didn’t want me.
What he’d said earlier made sense. Unfortunately, I wasn’t much of a team player to start with. I much preferred to work on my own. But, if I was to start becoming a team player, I would want to trust my partner explicitly. Feel assured they had my back and would watch out for me.
That definitely wasn’t the case with that jackass over there.
How could I trust him? We’d already tried to kill each other. Multiple times. And he’d almost succeeded. Had it not been for Rebecca calling out and distracting him, I’d most likely be very dead already. How could I ever really trust that when my back was turned in that arena, he wasn’t just going to come up behind me and chop my head off or something?
It was a very real possibility because I would consider doing that exact same thing to him.
The whole thing was completely and utterly fucking insane. Fighting to the death in a gladiator inspired tournament? What kind of Hunger Games May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favour bullshit did I fall into?
Dimitri seemed unnaturally calm about the whole thing. In fact, not once did I detect even a hint of surprise from him in regards to our current predicament. Almost as if he’d suspected the outcome. Knew exactly what was in store. What was going to happen to us.
We hadn’t said a word to each other in the past hour. Not since the guard had left. What was there to say? “Sorry I tried to kill you, but let’s put that aside now and try to work together?”
We’d never trust each other to the point where we could ever work together effectively.
Then again, what if we didn’t need to? What if there was some way around that?
I licked the gravy off my fingertips, contemplating how to approach the situation. I was fairly certain I knew how the interaction was going to go, but nevertheless…
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Not interested,” he fired back instantly, not even bothering to look up from his plate.
Yep, sounds about right.
“Do you want to live or not?” I snapped. His eyes finally flicked up to me. “I’m suggesting a temporary truce. Emphasis on the temporary part.”
“Not—”
“Interested. Right,” I finished with an irritated sigh, shaking my head. “Question. Have you always been this unbelievably pig-headed?”
He growled low in his throat, his narrowed gaze locked firmly on me like he wanted nothing more than to wring my neck. I’d have betted that someone in his position wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a fashion.
Tough fucking shit. I wasn’t going to bow down and kiss his ass because he was some hotshot mafia leader.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” I continued. “I’m genuinely curious if you’ve always been this way, or if it’s a skill you’ve been honing since your balls dropped?”
“Watch how you speak to me,” he warned darkly.
“Or what? News flash, Your Royal Grouchiness, you might be top shit in your world, but guess what? You’re not there. You’re here, locked up like the rest of us lowly peasants. We’re all in the same boat. So, why don’t you get off your high fucking horse and work with me. You might be content with rolling over and dying, but I’m not. I’m prepared to fight to my last, dying breath. And should that time come, I plan to take as many of those fuckers down with me as I can. So, you can either work with me, and together we might actually stand a chance of getting out of here alive, or I’ll kill you right here, right now, and just go at it solo. What’s it going to be?”
He stared at me, deathly still, not moving a single muscle. I thought I’d had his entire focus before, but this was something entirely different. If fear was an emotion I was capable of experiencing, I had no doubt it would be pumping through my veins with how he was looking at me. Like he’d just realised how big of a threat I really was, and was trying to decide whether or not to just cut his losses and end me.
His gaze moved slowly to my left. An unreadable expression fell over his face. I had no idea what the fuck he was looking at. There was nothing there except for pounds of solid concrete. Maybe he’d finally lost it. Cracked under the pressure, and was seeing things that weren’t there.
His eyes returned to me, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. “What do you mean by temporary truce?”
I held in my triumphant smile. It would probably piss him off, and it looked like I was finally winning him over. “While we’re here, fighting in these games, we agree not to try and kill each other.”
“And after?”
“If we manage to win, and if we manage to somehow get out of here…all bets are off. The next time we see each other, we’re free to do whatever we want.”
He thought it over for a moment. “How do we know the other will stick to the truce and not go back on their word?”
Valid question.
“We don’t know, at least not with one hundred percent certainty.” I slipped to the edge of the cot and placed my empty plate on the ground. “But I’m a person of my word, and I’ve heard you are, too.”
He grunted.
“We both know we have more of a chance of winning if we work together.” He took a sip from his water bottle, neither confirming or denying it. Fed up, I got to my feet, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m sick of playing devil’s advocate. Either agree to the truce or get ready for round two.”
“I think you mean round four, or is it five?” he scoffed, shaking his head. His eyes drifted to the side again—what the fuck is he looking at?—before he released a begrudging sigh. “I agree to your truce.”
He moved, standing toe-to-toe with me, a vicious promise laced in his next words. “But the second this is all over, I’m going to do what I swore I would do the moment I met you, and that’s kill you.” His hand wrapped around my throat. I allowed the move because why not? “I’m going to squeeze every ounce of air from your lungs until your heart stops, and then I’m going to smile down at your lifeless corpse.”
How cute. A threat from the Bratva Butcher himself. If I was right in the head, I would have been scared. His exploits were legendary. Something that would survive the ages. Everyone had heard of the Bratva Butcher. Of his malevolence. His brutality. His lack of empathy for those he considered his enemies.
It didn’t scare me, though. It made me…excited. What would it feel like to be hunted by the Bratva Butcher? To finally be the hunted instead of the hunter? The thought intrigued me far more than it should have.
I grasped his wrist and twisted sharply. He winced, completely unprepared for the move, and involuntarily dropped to his knees. The angle at which I held his wrist didn’t give him much of a choice. Either he dropped, or I broke his wrist.
“Ahh, exactly where a man belongs, on his knees.”
He scowled up at me.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Butcher. I’m sure you’re used to being the superior one out of everyone you face, but that shit isn’t going to fly with me. Believe me when I say that if I’m going down, I’m dragging you down with me.”
