Chapter 61

Dimitri

Shaken but oddly exhilarated, I watched as Albert leave. Albert’s fierceness reminded me of my own rise to power. I let the look on his face wash through my mind and continued smiling.

Albert had left me seething, but there was a peculiar satisfaction in the way he had stood his ground. I admired his defiance, even though it was directed at me. For a moment, I saw myself in him—a reflection of the same ruthlessness that I had always prided myself on. It was a sobering realization, yet it also sparked a sense of twisted pride. Albert had the potential to be as cold and unyielding as I was.

The potential to be...

I had seen the look in his eyes—the intense, fierce protectiveness. I had split them, but the connection wasn't over. Mia still had a hold on him, and that was a vulnerability I couldn't afford to ignore. If I was to succeed in my plans, I needed to remove her from the equation.

If she were allowed to live, she could be used against him. I made a call to a hitman I used frequently for her assassination. I needed Albert's focus on the future I intended to shape.

Albert had shown me his true nature, and now I had to show him mine.

Albert

I left Dimitri’s townhouse with a sick feeling in my stomach. His parting words echoed in my mind, tainting my thoughts. The recognition, the twisted admiration in his eyes—it was as if he had held up a mirror and forced me to see the darkness I’d tried to ignore. I hated that he’d managed to get under my skin, and I hated even more the way his words made me question myself.

I dropped Mikhail off at his new place, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on my shoulders. He gave me a nod as he stepped out of the car, and I barely acknowledged it. My mind was elsewhere—on Mia, on Dimitri, on the chaos that seemed to be consuming my life.

The driver traded places with me when I went to pick up Ivan and we drove in silence to the cemetery. My mother's grave was part of the reason why I wanted to take over this city. She'd been buried in the city of her birth though she'd been killed halfway across the country.

The ride was long and quiet, the city’s lights fading into darkness as we left it behind. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and my own restless thoughts.

When we arrived at the grave site, I felt a small, almost inexplicable sense of solace. It would be the first time I had visited her grave in years. Ivan pulled out a small bottle of whiskey, his gesture of support unspoken but understood. He stayed close as I approached my mother’s grave, the familiar sight of the headstone bringing a pang of sorrow and nostalgia.

I remembered picking it out. I remembered the flowers that had been on her casket as it was lowered into the ground. I sank down beside the grave, feeling the cold earth beneath me. The whiskey bottle felt heavy in my hands, a tangible comfort against the emotional storm inside me. I twisted off the cap and took a long swig, the burn of the alcohol matching the intensity of my feelings.

The grave was quiet, the world around me hushed. I began to speak, my voice rough and raw.

"You know, Mom... I never thought I’d be back here like this. I hate him. I hate him for what he’s done, for how he’s twisted everything around us. His words—" I paused, taking another drink, "—and how true... How awfully true they feel right now. He saw something in me that I don’t even want to admit. It’s like he’s pulled the worst parts of me into the light."

I stared ahead, willing it to offer some kind of guidance, some form of absolution.

"And Mia... God, Mia. She’s caught in the middle of all this mess. I’ve made a mess of everything. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now it feels like nothing is clear anymore. I thought I could protect her, but Dimitri’s made me question everything. I feel like I’m failing her, and I don’t know how to fix it."

I took another swig, the whiskey helping to blur the edges of my pain, but not enough to dull it. I could almost hear my mother’s voice, a ghostly whisper of comfort that wasn’t there. I missed her more than ever tonight, her absence a heavy weight on my heart.

"I don’t know what to do," I continued, the words coming out almost in a plea. "I’m so angry, but I need to be strong. For Mia, for everything. I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right. I just want to make things right again, but it’s like I’m chasing shadows."

Ivan stood a few feet away, giving me the space I needed but remaining close enough to offer support if I needed it. The silence between us was comforting.

I could always trust Ivan to be on my side. He'd been there that day that she was buried and every day after... he'd been the one to help me figure out who killed her.

As I finished the bottle, I placed it gently on the ground beside me. I sat there in the darkness, feeling a small sense of calm amidst the chaos. The anger, the guilt, the fear—it was all still there, but for now, it was tempered by the quiet presence of my mother’s grave and the steady, grounding reality of Ivan’s silent support.

Slowly, I approached and sat on the other side of the tombstone.

“In one day,” Ivan said, his voice low but firm, “this will all be over. Everything you've worked for in all these years will come to fruition. "

I nodded, feeling the grim satisfaction of knowing that a resolution was imminent. “It can’t come soon enough. It’s been a nightmare.”

Ivan chuckled wryly. “You know, it would have been over sooner if you’d just blown Dimitri’s brains out years ago.”

I couldn’t help but let out a weary chuckle. “You're not wrong."

"You may not see it, Albert, but you didn't kill him for a reason."

"Because I'm weak?"

"Because you're not him," Ivan said. "Because you're not weak. Because you're not a coward. She knew that... Mia knows that. You should be assured of that no matter what that bastard has said."

Ivan clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip both reassuring and strong. “You've always done what you thought was right. And you’ve managed to keep your head through all this. That’s worth something. Worth more than a lot of people can say.... Think about Sasha.”

I laughed. "That was terrible, even if you would agree."

I looked at him, the gratitude in my eyes. “Thanks for being on my side all this time. It’s meant more than you know.”

Ivan’s expression softened, and he looked away for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, there was a hint of mischief in his tone.

“You know, a proper thanks would be to be my best man when Katie and I get married.”

I raised an eyebrow, the surprise clear on my face. “You’re asking me to be your best man? Have you been asked the would-be bride yet?”

Ivan nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes, I am, and yes, I have. You’ve been more than just my boss, you know? You’ve been a friend. I want you there, standing by my side.”

I felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of my mouth. It was a moment of unexpected levity amidst the chaos. “I’d be honored, Ivan. Thank you... and congratulations.”

"... What do you think Sasha is going to do while he's retired?"

I snorted, trying to picture it. "Fuck a lot."

He laughed and the joy of it made me laugh. "Such language in front of your mother... What would she say?"

"She'd probably agree," I said, looking into the sky. "She wasn't all sugar, you know?"

She was just as strong and a strong willed as Mia.

"... What are you going to do?"

"Make a lot of money not have kids and spoil the shit out of Katie," he said. "And fuck a lot. Maybe not in that order."

I snorted and pushed myself to my feet. "Let's head back."

"You could add some of that to your list, you know?"

I shook my head. "Let's just make it through tomorrow."

We made our way back to the car. I could feel the weight of the night’s events beginning to lift, even if just a little. I was definitely drunk, but I was going to sleep it off probably thinking of a future I probably would never get with Mia.