Chapter Twenty-Nine

Violet

The Russo home, Bel Air…

Violet was still struggling to comprehend her mother’s protective action when all hell broke loose as the study door exploded inward in a shower of splinters. Through the chaos, her heart leaped at the sight of familiar tousled hair and fierce silvery eyes. Five men poured into the room like liquid violence with raised weapons.

“Dex! You came!” The words escaped her before she could stop them.

“Of course, I came, love.” His voice was steady even as his gun cracked sharply. The bullet caught Kozlov in the chest, but the Russian barely seemed to notice. With a roar that shook the crystal decanters, he charged.

Violet’s scream tore through the room as Kozlov caught Dexter like a ragdoll. His muscles bunched as he lifted him overhead.

“No!” Violet’s scream merged with the sickening crack of Dexter’s body hitting the hardwood, making her stomach lurch.

“Fuck,” Dexter growled through clenched teeth as he rolled to his feet. Violet sighed in relief as she watched him. His movement was stiff but determined.

Around them, the study had descended into mayhem. Max and Jax grappled with Kozlov’s men while Rex pulled Sophia to safety. Axel’s fist connected with Xavier’s jaw with a meaty thwack.

Kozlov’s massive frame swayed suddenly, his steps becoming unsteady. His eyes widened in confusion before rolling back. The floor shuddered as he crashed face-first beside Dexter, sending a nearby end table toppling.

“Fucking took him long enough.” Dexter’s breathing was labored, but his crooked smile was pure victory. “Russian bears are harder to tranq than I thought.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Tranq? You used a tranquilizer gun? On that bastard? Fuck Dex, what were you thinking?”

“He wasn’t,” Tag growled as he yanked Kozlov’s gun from his belt. “I wouldn’t if I was you,” he warned Hampton, who was struggling to pull out his own gun. He had clearly not expected any interference during the execution of his cruel intentions.

With Theo and Leo’s help, Kozlov’s two goons, as well as four guards who came running in upon hearing the commotion, were knocked out and trussed up.

“Just who the hell are you?” George sneered as Theo untied him, and he got to his feet. He glowered at Dexter who was cutting Violet loose and gently massaged her aching ankles and wrists.

“This is Dexter Flint. The man you wanted to use to absolve all of you from guilt with The World Bank AND the man and his friends who just saved our lives,” Violet snapped, angry at her father’s reaction and obvious discontent.

“And I suppose there’s an entire FBI force on their way as we speak,” he continued, disregarding Violet’s anger.

Violet couldn’t stop the quick glance at Dexter, then wanted to kick herself when she noticed the disappointment in his eyes. He turned his gaze to her father.

“In respect of your daughter, no, there isn’t, but for the life of me, I don’t know why I bothered.”

“I’m sorry, Dex,” Violet whispered. “We’re just all under tremendous stress.”

“Don’t apologize to the man, Violet. I warned you not to trust anyone with our secret, and you brought five strangers to our house?”

Violet trembled against George’s anger as he strode forward to glare at Rick Hampton.

The polished wood paneling of the study shook as his hand connected with Hampton’s face. The crack of flesh on flesh sounded like a thunderclap.

“That’s for terrorizing my wife and daughter, you worthless shithead!” Her father’s voice trembled with barely contained rage.

Hampton’s head whipped sideways as a fine spray of blood spattered across the Persian rug.

“Who the fuck cares,” he retorted with glacial eyes as he slowly turned back. His lips pulled back in a feral grin. The glob of bloodied saliva that hit George’s cheek seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before Hampton’s hand flashed to his waistband.

“No! Dad,” Violet screamed as the first gunshot shattered the crystal decanter behind George’s head as he lurched sideways. The second caught him in the chest, rocking him back on his heels as crimson bloomed across his shirt like spilled wine.

“You fucking bastard!” Tag shouted. His reaction was pure instinct as he delivered two precise shots, center mass. Hampton’s body jerked like a puppet with cut strings, the two round holes appearing over his heart almost simultaneously.

“F-Fuck you,” he stuttered as his knees buckled, and he collapsed on the floor with his empty eyes turning sightless.

The room erupted into chaos. Xavier twisted like an eel in Axel’s grip, his elbow catching him against the temple.

“Holy shit!” The sharp report of his gun was followed by Axel’s grunt of pain as the bullet tore through his shoulder, spinning him into the bookcase. Max returned fire with devastating precision—two shots in rapid succession.

“You bastard,” Xavier sighed as his leg buckled as the first round hit, and he was already falling when the second caught him high in the shoulder. His weapon skittered across the floor, leaving a trail of his blood on the polished wood.

Violet stood frozen with her heart hammering against her ribs as gun smoke filled the air. Then she saw her mother dart across the room. Her breath caught in her throat as she fell to her knees beside her father.

“Thank fuck,” she murmured as he moved when Sophia hugged him while his red lifeforce continued to seep through his shirt.

“No. Theo! Get down,” she whimpered as, through the haze, she saw him and Dexter standing like statues in the middle of the gunfight. Bullets whined past them like angry wasps, but neither moved. Then Dexter’s arm came up, his movement liquid smooth. The gunshot seemed louder than all the others.

“THEO!” The name ripped from her throat as she watched her brother fall, with a perfect crimson circle appearing between his eyes. She didn’t notice the guard on the floor, didn’t notice him drawing the backup piece from his ankle holster, even while tied up, least of all did she register him taking aim at Theo’s head. All she saw was Dexter’s unwavering arm and her brother’s body crumpling like a discarded coat.

When the final chaos of gunfire faded, Violet’s raw, wracking sobs filled the vacuum. Tears cut tracks through the gun smoke residue on her cheeks as she turned to Dexter. Her eyes blazed with betrayal and hurt. Her voice came out as a broken whisper, sharp as broken glass.

“Dexter, how could you?”

She watched the man she loved turn to stone as his eyes darkened until they were void of all emotion. His voice was so low, she could barely hear him.

“You think I shot your brother?”

“I saw you, Dexter. I stood right there,” she said hysterically and pointed to the sofa with a trembling finger. “You shot him point blank!”

“I am forty-two years old, Violet. I’ve been in the military and have fought a couple of criminals since, but in all the years, I have never killed another human being. Wounded, yes, shoot to kill? Never, and I never will. I came here to protect you and your family. I had no reason to shoot your brother.” His expression turned cold.

“If you for one second believe I am that kind of person... you don’t know me at all. Quite frankly, I don’t even care since I just realized you offer the kind of love I am not interested in.” The hesitation was marked. “Gragna Mafia love.”

Violet shrank back against the dark, empty look he gave her. With her heart splintering apart, she watched him turn away as his words chased after him.

“I hope you find what you deserve in life. I wish you well, Violet.”

Dexter

Two weeks later, DAF Financial Grand Centre…

“Leave, you little snip. This time, I’ll physically keep you out of his office.”

Dexter’s heart contracted as Darlene’s voice floated through the closed door. There was only one person who had the knack to piss off the well-behaved woman like that—the one person he had no desire to face. Not today, maybe never again.

Lifting the phone receiver, he dialed the number for security. “Send someone to my office, please. We have an unwelcome guest who refuses to leave.”

“Just give me a couple of minutes, Darlene. I fucked up, and I need to—”

“Yes, you probably need to apologize, but here’s the thing, Miss Russo. Mr. Flint gave direct instructions that he doesn’t want to see you, so I suggest you leave before I call security.”

“I already did,” Dexter said as he opened the door. Brushing his eyes with disinterest over the chic woman in a flowing summer dress and high-heeled sandals, he walked past her and handed a folder to Darlene. “See that this is couriered to the president of The World Bank today, please.”

“Of course.” Dexter ignored her questioning look as he turned back to his office.

“Dex, please. Just allow me a few minutes,” Violet’s softly melodious voice almost caused his footsteps to falter. Almost… until he heard the accusation ringing in his ears.

“Dexter, how could you?”

“I’m busy, but you might have thirty seconds before security arrives to remove you, so I suggest you talk fast.”

Dexter turned to face her, ignoring the pleading look that begged for privacy. He had no intention of accommodating her. His heart was raw, and time didn’t seem to heal the wound she had left with her distrust and false emotions.

“I’m sorry. I was in shock watching Theo… watching him… watching him die, and—”

“So, I imagine the autopsy report proved it wasn’t my Glock that delivered the kill shot, and lo and behold, here you are… back to scratch at my balls again.”

“That’s not true, Dex, and you know it. I’ve been phoning you every day since that night. You’re the one shutting me out!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snarled. “You rolled the dice, Miss Russo, only you chose the wrong set to play with.”

He stepped back as she reached out a hand to him. With disinterest, he watched her fingers curl into a fist. With every word he spoke, his heart splintered a little further apart, yet they kept rolling off his tongue, guided by the hurt and betrayal of her mistrust in him as a man… and the one who offered her his heart.

“The autopsy is still in progress, so I still don’t know what happened, but I do know I never should’ve accused you of… of…”

“Of killing your brother? No, you shouldn’t have, but you did, so you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“I miss you, Dex. I made a terrible mistake that day. You are a man of integrity and honor, which is why I fell in love with you so quickly. That hasn’t changed. I still love you, so very much. Please forgive me.”

“Now, that’s rather interesting,” Dexter kept his voice devoid of emotion. “You profess to love me and suddenly trust in who and what I am, but here’s the kicker, Miss Russo. I don’t believe that you truly do. I don’t believe you ever did. See, trust is a two-way street. You may now claim to trust me, but I no longer reciprocate. I mean, you are a Russo , after all.”

Ignoring her gasp of pain and the flash of despair in her eyes, he looked up as two security guards entered the vast reception area.

“Please remove her from the premises. Obtain her details from Darlene and make sure she never sets foot inside this building again.”

“There’s no need,” Violet said with dejection in her voice. “I’ll leave, but know this, Dexter Flint, we’re not done. You can deny it all you want, but we love each other. We were meant to be, and I, for one, am not going to give up on us.”

“Then you are a fool.”