Chapter 56: Do I seem soft to you?

"I wasn’t aware I needed permission to conduct business in a public space." Enzo spread his hands, the picture of innocence. "Ms. Thorne was professional. Courteous. We had a productive conversation about potential partnerships."

"Marco," Dimitri said quietly, not taking his eyes off Enzo. "Tell my brother what happens to men who touch what’s mine."

"They lose the hand," Marco said flatly. "Or worse, depending on the boss’s mood."

"And yet here I stand," Enzo said, "with both hands intact. Makes me wonder....maybe she’s not as ’yours’ as you think. Maybe she’s just another woman warming your bed until you get bored and move on to the next...."

He didn’t see Dimitri move.

One second his brother was ten feet away. The next, Enzo was slammed against the marble column, Dimitri’s forearm across his throat, cutting off air.

"Finish that sentence," Dimitri whispered, his face inches from Enzo’s, "and I’ll rip your tongue out through your teeth."

Enzo couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, but he smiled anyway. Dimitri’s reaction told him everything he needed to know.

The Devil was in love.

And love made even devils vulnerable.

Dimitri held him there for another five seconds, long enough for Enzo’s vision to start darkening at the edges, then released him.

Enzo coughed, gasping, hand at his throat.

"You’re coming with me," Dimitri said, stepping back, adjusting his cuffs like he hadn’t just nearly crushed his brother’s windpipe. "We’re going to have a conversation. A private one."

"Of course." Enzo’s voice came out rough. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Marco. Secure his men. Non-lethal. They’re Antonio’s, and I won’t give our father an excuse." Dimitri’s eyes never left Enzo. "But if they resist, break something memorable."

Luca and Paolo exchanged glances, then slowly raised their hands.

Smart men.

"The car’s outside," Dimitri said. "Move."

****

POV: DIMITRI

The warehouse was in the industrial district....one of three properties Dimitri owned under shell companies for exactly this purpose. Soundproofed. Isolated. Equipped with everything necessary for having difficult conversations.

The overhead lights cast harsh shadows across the concrete floor. A single chair sat in the center of the space, bolted to the ground.

Enzo walked to it without being told, sat down, crossed one ankle over his knee like this was a business meeting instead of an interrogation.

"You’ve redecorated," he said, glancing around. "I remember this place being more... lived-in. More blood on the walls."

Dimitri said nothing. Just removed his suit jacket, draped it over a nearby crate, and rolled up his sleeves.

Behind him, Marco locked the door.

They were alone now. Just the two of them. Brothers separated by five years and a lifetime of resentment.

"Do you know why I brought you here?" Dimitri asked conversationally, selecting a pair of brass knuckles from the table where his tools were laid out.

"To remind me of my place in the hierarchy," Enzo said. "To establish dominance. To send a message to Antonio that you won’t tolerate interference." He smiled. "Am I close?"

"No." Dimitri slipped the brass knuckles onto his right hand, flexing his fingers. "I brought you here to explain, very clearly, what happens when someone threatens something I love."

Enzo’s smile faltered. Just slightly.

"I didn’t threaten her. I had a business conversation...."

The first punch took Enzo in the ribs. Hard. Precise. Dimitri heard something crack.

Enzo doubled over, gasping, the chair creaking under the sudden shift in weight.

"Let me be very clear," Dimitri said, circling around to Enzo’s left side. "You walked into Eve’s office. You shook her hand. You made her uncomfortable. You spoke about our mother...." Another punch, same side, lower. More ribs. "You tried to plant doubt in her mind about staying with me. And you thought I would let that pass because we share blood."

"Dimitri...." Enzo coughed, and Dimitri saw blood on his lips. Good. Internal bleeding, but nothing fatal. "I was just...fuck....just seeing what you were working with..."

The third punch caught him in the jaw. Enzo’s head snapped to the side, and when he straightened, his left eye was already swelling.

"What I’m working with," Dimitri said quietly, removing the brass knuckles and setting them aside, "is a woman who watched me torture a man and chose to stay. Who saw me covered in blood and asked me to come to bed. Who heard about my mother and chose me anyway." He crouched in front of Enzo, meeting his eyes. "She’s not weak. She’s not a pawn. And she is absolutely, unequivocally mine."

"She’s a liability," Enzo spat, blood dripping from his mouth. "Antonio sees it. Isabella will see it. Every enemy you have will use her against you, and you’re too blinded by pussy to care...."

Dimitri’s hand shot out, gripped Enzo’s throat, squeezed.

"Say one more disrespectful thing about her," Dimitri whispered, his voice like ice, "and I will forget you’re my brother. I will forget Antonio’s protection. I will forget every reason I have to keep you alive, and I will make you scream until your voice breaks."

Enzo clawed at Dimitri’s hand, gasping, his face turning red.

Dimitri held him there, counting seconds, watching his brother’s eyes go wide with the first real taste of fear.

Then he released him.

Enzo collapsed forward, coughing, gasping for air.

"Why are you here?" Dimitri asked, straightening. "And don’t give me bullshit about business opportunities. Antonio sent you. Why?"

"To assess." Enzo’s voice was hoarse, damaged. "To see if the rumors were true."

"What rumors?"

"That the Devil fell in love." Enzo looked up, and despite the blood and the bruises, his eyes were sharp. Calculating. "That you broke your engagement to Isabella for some nobody. That you’ve gone soft."

"Soft," Dimitri repeated, almost amused. He gestured to Enzo’s broken ribs, his swelling face. "Do I seem soft to you?"

"No. You seem distracted." Enzo leaned back in the chair, wincing. "You’re so focused on protecting her that you’re not seeing the bigger picture. Antonio’s moving pieces. Isabella’s in play. The Russos are getting impatient.