Save her

DIMITRI'S POV:

I watched as a pick-up truck slowly made its way up the long drive. Thick sheets of rain drummed over the truck and even though the truck’s windshield wipers performed a frantic dance back and forth, it was completely useless against the rain.

“What do you want me to do boss?” Cessare asked over the radio.

“Don't do anything yet. We'll strike only after he makes contact with the dealer— for now keep your eyes out.” 

“Don.” Matteo called, I flicked the radio transmitter off and turned to him, a frown on my face.

“What?”

“Why don't we just deal with him now and seize the weapons off the truck.” He asked.

I shook my head. “No.” My voice was firm and resolute.

Matteo's idea of conflict avoidance involved killing anyone he thought might at any point cause even a hint of friction. I had to monitor him carefully everytime he was giving an assignment. Matteo was too impulsive!

Good but bad as well!

To be certain I wasn't misunderstood, I added. “We're not killing Rodriguez, that will be openly declaring war.”

He understood that much, as his hands that had been twitching round the holster relax. Romero shot him a glance and chuckled softly. He frowned at his twin and smacked him on the shoulder.

We were lying in ambush on a ranch in the middle of nowhere in far out Kentucky. From Rodriguez's Intel, this was one of Malthius' hideout and were he mostly used for all his transactions and that was more reason why we had to keep Rodriguez alive. Even if for nothing except smoking out Malthius. That sly bastard!

The rain drenched us from the side of the barn we were standing. I watched Cessare approach the truck slowly with the men. 

Someone came out of the ranch to meet the pick-up truck. The truck light illuminated through the rain making each drop look like falling stars. 

“Rodriguez.” The newcomer called as the doors opened slightly.

“Rodriguez couldn't make it, so he sent me.” A calm voice came from inside the truck.

From where we stood, we could see the Ranch man reach for his holster immediately, unclasping it in one swift motion. “Who are you?” He queried.

“Carson.” 

The ranch man moved closer to the door that still wasn't open yet, his hulking form looked like something out of a horror movie. 

“Come out with your hands out.” The ranch man called. A minute later the pick-up driver— Carson stepped out into the rain, hands raised above his head. The Ranch man lowered his gun in recognition.

I flicked back the transmitter on the radio.”Now is the time, Cessare.”

My men snuck out of their hiding spots and slipped into the ranch house, while a few still remained in hiding surrounding the Ranch man and the truck driver.

Five minutes later, Cessare voice came through the radio. “Inside is clear, boss.”

I nodded at Luca. “Let's go.”

Before the men could engage, we were already moving towards them. The Ranch man spotted us first but before he could pull out his holsters, two sharp gunshots disarmed him.

Carson dived to the floor just in time to avoid being hit in cross fire.

I approached the Ranch man and placed the cold metal muzzle of my gun to his skull. “Where's Malthius.” 

“I don't have any idea what you're talking about.”

“Wrong answer.” Matteo hissed from beside me, I rammed the gun barrel into his nose breaking it as swiftly as though I was cutting out paper. Fresh blood burst out, sizzling and trickling down his nose.

I motioned for some one to have Carson straightened up, Matteo volunteered without hesistation, kicking the delivery guy straight to his feet.

“How many pounds worth of goods are in the truck?” I asked still pointing my gun at the Ranch man, who was writhing in pain on the floor.

“I-it i-is three thousand dollars worth Sir.” He stuttered, face pale with fright.

“Walk him off the property, Romero.”

“Yes sir.” Romero stepped forward and pushed the delivery guy away. I turned my focus fully on the Ranch man.

“Where are the weapons Rodriguez sent in the last time.”

“The boss took it. The boss took it with him immediately.” He said, his tone heavily shaken and wounded.

I signaled to Matteo. “Tie him and throw him in the truck, we're leaving.”

My eyes fell back to the ranch house where, Cessare and the men were packing out wooden boxes from. I didn't care to know what they were. I only knew one thing for sure, I was going to burn down this place today!

And get my fucking revenge for that little trick Malthius had played. 

No one dared the Volkovs! No one fucking did.

I flicked the transmitter back and dragged the radio to my mouth, and with all the calmness and precision of a surgeon. I muttered out the words, slowly and well measured. “Burn down the whole place after you're done Cessare.”

“Yessir!” His reply came in almost immediately.

“Good.” I flicked, the receiver switch off and made to walk in to the pick up truck. When my phone buzzed, vibrating against my jacket. I dipped my hands in to the pocket and fetched it out.

A frown made its way to my face, immediately I saw the caller ID.

Why was Yvvette calling me?

I thumbed the answer button and placed the phone to my ear.

“What is this about Yvvette?” 

“I'm sorry for calling Sir, but this is urgent, you've to come home immediately.”

My brows furrowed as I listened in. “What the hell is going on there?”

“Is the Mistress, Sir.”

My grip on the phone tightened immediately. I barked into the phone. “Tell me exactly, what happened, everything!”

“She's being locked up in her room all day and has refused eating anything since her mother left.” She reported.

I whirled around, turning away from the smoke and fire, Cessare has started and began running to the car on the other side of the property.

“I'm on my way now, just watch her and ensure she doesn't try anything crazy.” I said, trying to keep my voice from panting.

“Alright, sir.” The line clicked and I pocketed the phone. 

Matteo was fast on my heels. “What’s wrong Dimitri?”

“I have to settle some things at home, you and Cessare can handle everything here while I'm gone.”

He halted in his tracks, I didn't. “Is everything okay?”

I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I reached the car door and jerked it open with full force, and dove behind the wheel. Two minutes later I was gunning the car at full speed back to downtown Chicago.

I hated when women cried. I hated having to see a woman cry. Especially when the woman is my woman.

Why the hell did she have to lock herself in for?

Cold sweat glistened on my forehead, rolling down my chin.

What if she killed herself before I got home?

I rammed my feet on the accelerator not allowing myself to complete the thought. 

Did she loathe me that much to even take her own life in a bid to avoid living with me?

I shifted gears and accelerated.

My mother had also locked her door once. And no one had gone fast enough to save her.