Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Dimitri

Augustus and Petar got out of the car, but Louise and the other woman…doubtless the spoiled mafia princess…remained in the back. I didn't spare them a glance. My attention was laser-focused on Petar Dragan, the bane of my existence. Dear old dad, the bastard who had made my life a living hell from the moment I drew my first breath.

Not only that, he had beaten and terrorized my younger brother, then threatened to kill him if I didn't join him and Grayson Allen. Allen had a devious plot to overthrow the king and rule New Orleans. My father was his second-in-command and insisted I join them. If I didn't, he said he'd torture and hurt my brother. So I did, but only to protect Valentin, the only person in this godforsaken world that I had ever given a damn about .

The memories left a bitter taste in my mouth, and the old anger and resentment rose up inside me like bile, burning my throat. I had stood up to Petar then, had borne the brunt of his wrath to keep Valentin safe. But the cost had been high, and the scars he'd left on my soul were deeper than any physical wound. They were the kind of scars that would never truly heal, the kind that made you want to lash out and watch the world burn.

I narrowed my eyes, a smirk playing on my lips. "If it isn't the last person, I wanted to see again—Petar Dragan." I didn't even try to hide the resentment and hate in my voice. I wanted him to hear it, to feel the depth of my loathing.

Petar stiffened, his jaw clenching. "It's Dad to you."

I rolled my eyes and curled my lips in a snarl, a harsh laugh escaping my throat. "Tell me, how did you pull the wool over the vampire mafia king's eyes?" I drawled.

"He trusts me." Petar gave me a hard stare, his eyes cold and unyielding. "I'm his sister's bodyguard."

I tilted my head, studying him with a predatory gaze. "Is that so? Well, isn't that just heartwarming?"

Petar nearly tripped over his words, his voice all false sincerity as he tried to convince me he was some kind of Good Samaritan. "Wolf shifters attacked her, and Angelo Santi sent her here to get out of New Orleans while he hunts for them."

Yeah, right. Something smelled off. There was a reason he was guarding this woman, and whatever it was, it wasn't good.

I stepped forward until Petar and I were nose to nose. I could see the flicker of fear in his eyes, and it brought a cruel smile to my lips. "So you say, Dad," I drawled, my voice low and dangerous. "But remember, I know you. Why are you really here?"

He backed up, his hands raised in a gesture of appeal that made me want to laugh. "I told you—to protect Gianna." He turned and opened the rear passenger door, gesturing for the women to exit. As she stepped out, I saw her—the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Even with an ugly purple bruise marring her delicate cheek, she was breathtaking. It took every ounce of my self-control not to be mesmerized by her beauty, not to let my guard down and fall under her spell.

No. I knew better than to trust a pretty face, especially one that came with Petar's stamp of approval.

I tore my gaze away from her, my jaw clenching. I had to focus on the task at hand. I couldn't let myself be distracted, not when there was so much at stake. If Petar was involved, then this Gianna was trouble, end of story. I needed to find out what kind of game my father was playing before it was too late.

Augustus and Louise came around the car, ready to stop a war between my father and me.

"Dimitri." Augustus stepped in between us. "This is Gianna Santi. As you know, she's going to be staying with us for a few days."

A smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. Like her being their guest meant anything to me .

I narrowed my eyes, my gaze shifting to Petar. "Why are you really here?" It came out as a challenge, a dare for him to try and lie to me.

""Louise looped her arm through Gianna's, and that's when I smelled it—fear. Gianna Santi was afraid of…what? Wolves? Petar? Or me? Her face had turned pale, and she was trembling.

I cocked an eyebrow, my eyes roaming over her body appreciatively. "Your apartment isn't very big, Louise. Where are they staying?" I asked, my voice laden with false concern.

So help me, if they said Valentin's, World War III would begin, and I'd be the one leading the charge.

"Across the hall from us," Augustus said, his tone wary.

Louise shoved me hard in the chest, her eyes blazing with anger. "You're a jerk, Dimitri. Can't you see she's been hurt?"

I stumbled back a step, more surprised than anything by Louise's outburst. I rolled my eyes, a smirk playing over my lips as I regained my balance. Was that supposed to make me feel bad? I'd been called far worse things by much better people.

Louise put her arm around Gianna's waist. "I'm taking her inside. If you're going to act like this, maybe you shouldn't come to the party."

Augustus shook his head in disgust as he followed Louise and Gianna inside the faculty housing building.

I broke out in a dry laugh, the sound harsh and humorless. "Just try to keep me away, birthday girl," I said, my lips twisting into a mocking smirk.

Petar made to follow them, but I grabbed his arm and stopped him. "You're not fooling me. You've never been the caring type, Dad." I narrowed my eyes, my gaze boring into his. "What are you up to?"

He broke free of my grasp. "Nothing. Just protecting Angelo Santi's sister. It's my job. You'd do well to remember that."

I ground my teeth together. "Is that a threat?" My voice was low and dangerous.

He put his arm on my shoulder, and I fought the urge to recoil from his touch. "You don't want to get on the wrong side of Angelo Santi, son. Trust me, he makes Jack the Ripper look like an amateur."

I jerked my shoulder away, the movement sharp and abrupt. "Don't ever call me son, Petar," I said venomously. "You lost that privilege when you tried to kill Valentin."

"Still protecting your little brother, I see. Just what I was counting on," he said, a smug smile on his face.

I grabbed his shirt collar and lifted him off the ground, my muscles straining with the effort. "You're trying my patience," I growled, my face mere inches from his.

"Dimitri—put him down." I glanced over my shoulder as a woman in a dark robe headed over toward us, my eyes narrowing in annoyance.

It was High Priestess Abigail Dixon, head of Goody Magic Academy. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, emphasizing her sharp features. Fury danced in her dark eyes. She had never liked me but tolerated me in deference to supernatural politics. Not that I cared. I had some powerful friends, friends that could make her life miserable .

"You will not treat our guests like this," she said, her voice cold and authoritative.

I dropped my father as if he was a hot potato, my lips curling up into a sneer. "Guests? You know?—"

"Petar Dragan, yes. Now, if you will excuse us, your father and I have business to discuss."

"Business? Seriously?" Things were getting more and more surprising.

My father straightened his tie, a smug, self-satisfied smile on his face. "Indeed. You'll find out soon enough—son."

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building inside me. I needed to figure out who the players were here. What exactly was Angelo Santi up to? Did he even know what game my father was playing?