Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

Dimitri exhaled slowly.

”Okay. Marco will handle the cover story development. We need a background that passes their screening, someone desperate, someone with medical history that shows you can survive high-risk situations, someone they’d want to include in their trials.”

”I’ll work with Marco on that,” James said. ”Boss, If I go in and I die in that facility, I want you to promise you’ll burn them down. I want you to promise that The Covenant doesn’t survive this. Not as an organization. Not as anything.”

Dimitri met his gaze.

”I promise. The Covenant will not survive this.”

The weight of that oath settled between them.

James nodded, he looked satisfied.

”Then we have a deal.”

***

After James left with Marco to begin preparation, Mike stayed behind.

Sat in the quiet office while the city moved around them outside the windows.

”Are you sure about this?” Mike asked finally.

”No,” Dimitri admitted. ”I’m not sure about anything except that it’s necessary.”

”He’s going to die.”

”Probably.”

”And you’re okay with that?”

”No. But I’m more not-okay with the alternative. With The Covenant selling bioweapons to terrorist organizations. With thousands of innocent people dying from a disease released by people who couldn’t care less about human suffering.”

Mike understood.

Understood that Dimitri carried the weight of his mother’s death every single day.

That taking down The Covenant wasn’t just strategic.

It was personal.

It was the only thing that might bring him peace.

”What about Eve?” Mike asked. ”Does she know?”

”No.”

”Is she going to find out?”

”Eventually. But not until this is over.” Dimitri’s voice was hard. ”I’m not burdening her with this knowledge while we’re planning infiltration and retaliation. She’s safe. She’s happy. Let her have that for a few more weeks.”

”You’re lying to her again.”

”I’m protecting her.”

”Those are the same thing.” Mike stood, moved to the window. ”And every time you lie to her, you chip away at the trust you’ve rebuilt. Eventually, there won’t be anything left to repair.”

”Then I’ll deal with that when it comes.”

Mike turned back to face him.

”Dimitri, I support what you’re doing with The Covenant. I think it’s necessary and important and right. But I’m telling you as your brother and as someone who loves my sister, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep deciding what truths she’s strong enough to handle. Because eventually, she’s going to discover you’ve been lying. And this time, she might actually leave.”

Dimitri knew Mike was right.

Had known it the moment he’d decided not to never tell Eve anything about The Covenant.

But the alternative....telling her that the organization that had murdered his mother was still actively developing bioweapons, was still killing people, was still a threat....

That would destroy her.

Would make her terrified every moment he was gone.

Would add weight to a burden she didn’t need to carry.

”I know,” Dimitri said quietly. ”But right now, I need to focus on this. I need to focus on stopping The Covenant. And I can’t do that if I’m also managing Eve’s fear and anger and the thousand ways she’ll try to help me that’ll get her killed.”

”So you protect her by lying.”

”Yes.”

Mike sighed.

”Just... promise me that you’ll tell her. Before things get more complicated. Before she finds out herself.”

”I promise,” Dimitri said. And meant it.

Sort of.

The same way he’d meant the promise to tell her everything two weeks ago.

The same way he’d meant a lot of promises lately.

***

POV: ISABELLA

”Harder,” Isabella gasped, her face pressed into the mattress. ”Please....harder....”

Dante complied, slamming into her from behind with brutal force.

She’d called him an hour ago...desperate, needy, ashamed of her own desperation.

And he’d come.

Had walked through her door with that cold smile and those dark eyes that reminded her so painfully of Dimitri.

Now he was destroying her.

Again.

Isabella had lost count of how many times they’d had sex over the past weeks. Had lost count of the positions, the humiliations, the ways he made her feel like nothing and everything simultaneously.

”You’re so wet,” Dante said, his voice cruel. ”So desperate. Still thinking about him while I’m inside you, aren’t you?”

”No....” Isabella lied, gasping as he hit deeper. ”No.....just you....only you.....”

”Liar.” He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back. ”You want Dimitri so badly you’d let any man fuck you if he looks enough like him. You’d degrade yourself, humiliate yourself, become a whore....all for five minutes of pretending.”

The words should have devastated her.

Instead, they made her come.

Dante felt it, laughed, and kept pounding.

”That’s what you are, Isabella. A whore. A broken, pathetic whore who screams another man’s name while getting fucked.”

Isabella sobbed, her entire body shaking, overwhelmed by pleasure and shame and desperation in equal measure.

Dante finished moments later, spilling inside her, marking her, reminding her exactly what she’d become.

Then he pulled out, stood, started getting dressed without looking at her.

Isabella lay on the bed, covered in his cum and her own wetness, too exhausted to move.

”You can clean yourself up,” Dante said, buttoning his shirt. ”And call me when you’re desperate enough to need this again.”

Then he left.

The apartment door closed with a soft click.

And suddenly, the silence felt deafening.

Isabella dragged herself to the bathroom, turned on the shower.

The hot water ran over her body, washing away evidence of what she’d just done.

She stared at her reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror and barely recognized the woman looking back.

When had she become this?

When had she become so completely broken that she begged strangers to degrade her?

When had her entire existence narrowed down to waiting for a man to call, waiting for him to come over, waiting for a few hours of brutal sex that left her feeling emptier than before?

Isabella got out of the shower, dried off, and went to her bedroom to dress.

That’s when she noticed it.

Something felt wrong.