Dimitri’s world was on fire.
Pain tore through his side like molten steel, burning deeper with every breath. The second and third shots had come too fast for him to dodge—one near his heart, another grazing his neck. The warmth of his own blood soaked into his tailored shirt, thick and fast. But none of it compared to the ice that shot through his veins when he heard Lee cry out behind him.
He hit the floor, chest heaving. His vision blurred, and yet when he heard Lee scramble to his side, touch him, speak his name—Dimitri's hand reached out, trembling but strong, cupping the back of Lee’s neck. He pulled their foreheads together, his bloodstained lips brushing the younger man’s ear.
“Don’t look at him,” Dimitri rasped. “Only look at me.”
Lorenzo's smug presence infected the air like a slow poison. The bastard stood calm, untouched, and still holding that gun—an executioner savoring the final swing of the blade. But Dimitri didn’t look at him. Not yet.
“You think this is over?” Dimitri hissed, his gaze lifting—furious and wild, sharp enough to cut through steel. His green eyes locked on Lorenzo with a fury the world hadn't seen since the Wolf bled Moscow dry.
“You touch him again and I swear on everything I've ever burned,” he growled through clenched teeth, “I’ll take your hands. I’ll make you watch while I feed them to you one finger at a time.”
His hand, still pressed to Lee’s side, gripped the boy tighter, protectively—desperately. He was losing blood. Fast. The edges of his vision blurred, pulsed, darkened. He bit the inside of his cheek until the metallic tang of blood snapped him back.
His voice softened only for Lee. “You don’t beg him, Lee. You never beg someone like that.” His hand curled around Lee’s bloodstained fingers. “You're mine.”
Then he turned his head—slowly, like a wounded animal baring its teeth. He spat crimson to the side, then glared at Lorenzo with a cruel, near-smile twitching at his mouth.
“You better finish the job, Eunuch,” he taunted hoarsely. “Because if you leave me breathing... I'm going to hunt you. And I’m going to take... my fucking time.”
Lorenzo’s gaze lingered on the pair, unfazed by the blood or threats or even the broken desperation tangled between the two lovers on the floor.
He gave a soft, theatrical sigh, his fingers tapping the side of his gun. “Such dramatics,” he murmured. “I never understood that part of you, Dimitri. Always so personal about everything.” He took a slow step forward, the muzzle of his pistol now idly aimed at Dimitri’s head. “I was hired to break you. Not kill you. Not yet, anyway. But your boy... now he made it personal.”
Lorenzo’s eyes flicked to Lee, calm and calculating. “You know, I expected him to scream more. Cry. Beg. But he’s so eager. Like a puppy that doesn’t understand it’s being kicked.”
He cocked his head slightly. “Maybe that’s why you like him. You’ve always had a taste for the ones that bleed for you.” The gun lifted slightly, finger tightening just enough—no hesitation, no flare of rage. Just cold, surgical—
CRASH.
The door behind him exploded inward with a thunderous bang, wood splintering as Dimitri’s men flooded in like a black tide. Guns raised. Tactical vests. Controlled chaos.
“DROP IT!” barked one of the men.
Lorenzo didn’t flinch. He took a step back, slowly raising his hands—but the glint in his eyes never dulled. “Took you long enough,” he muttered, almost with a chuckle. Then louder, to no one in particular: “Tell my employer I stayed within contract. Target’s alive. Pain delivered.”
He tossed the gun aside, letting it clatter to the concrete floor harmlessly.
Two of Dimitri’s men moved to subdue him, and Lorenzo allowed it—cool, even smiling faintly as he was disarmed and yanked away from the scene. “You’ll want to get your boss to a hospital,” he added without looking at them. “Tick tock, gentlemen.”
As they dragged him off, he finally met Lee’s gaze one last time. “He came for you,” Lorenzo said softly, almost with something like respect—or was it mockery? “Don’t waste it.”
Then he was gone, pulled out into the hallway, disappearing behind reinforced steel and men with orders to take him alive—for now.