Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

This was what he’d fought for.

Not territory. Not empire. Not even revenge, really.

But this...the right to sit at a table with the people he cared about, the right to know they were safe, the right to experience this simple, profound comfort.

”More wine?” Nonna asked, already refilling glasses without waiting for an answer.

”Nonna, we’re fine,” Mike said, but he was smiling.

”You’re never fine,” Nonna replied. ”Men are never fine. They need wine, food, and constant supervision.”

Eve laughed again, and the sound filled the entire penthouse.

***

The dinner had concluded an hour later, after multiple courses and Nonna’s insistent refusals to let anyone help with the dishes.

”You sit,” Nonna had commanded. ”I clean. You rest.”

Now, Dimitri was standing, pulling Eve close to him as Nonna disappeared into the kitchen.

Mike was on his phone, giving his security team updates about the day’s operations.

Dimitri’s hand moved up to Eve’s hair, and he leaned down, kissing the top of her head, a tender gesture that communicated everything he was feeling.

”Go take a shower, piccola,” he said softly, his voice carrying a promise. ”I’ll join you very soon.”

Eve looked up at him, and there was a knowing in her eyes, an understanding of what ”very soon” meant, what the night ahead held.

”Don’t be long,” she said, her voice soft and intimate.

”I won’t,” Dimitri replied.

He watched her leave the room, heading toward the master bedroom.

Only then did he turn to Mike.

”We need to talk,” Dimitri said, his tone shifting from tender to businesslike.

”I figured,” Mike replied, following Dimitri toward the office.

The office was exactly as Dimitri had left it, organized, controlled, a space where business was conducted and decisions were made.

Dimitri closed the door behind them.

Mike moved to the window, looking out at the Manhattan skyline, giving Dimitri a moment to settle.

Then Mike turned and looked directly at Dimitri.

”Why did you let Dante escape when you could have finished him off?” Mike asked without preamble.

The question hung in the air.

Dimitri didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the wine cabinet, opened it, and poured himself a single glass of whisky...neat with no ice.

He sat heavily in his chair.

For a long moment, he just held the glass, staring at it like it might hold answers.

Then he took a deep sip of the drink before he looked at Mike.

”Yes, I know I should have killed him,” Dimitri said flatly. ”But at least I left him half dead.”

Mike stared at him for a moment, processing the answer, understanding the implications.

Then something shifted in Mike’s expression.

”Wait,” Mike said slowly. ”Don’t tell me you’re scared of the Romanos.”

It wasn’t accusatory. It was observational. It was Mike using his tactical mind to assess the situation.

Dimitri smiled, a dangerous smile that suggested amusement at being read so accurately.

”And what made you come to that conclusion my dear friend?” Dimitri asked, his tone genuinely curious.

”Because you’ve let him live on two occasions now,” Mike said, moving closer, establishing his point. ”When you absolutely could have finished him off. So he stops bothering you entirely. But instead, you let him escape. Wounded, broken, but alive.”

Mike paused.

”Now he’s on the loose again,” Mike continued. ”And who knows what he’ll do next. A desperate man is a dangerous man, Dimitri. And Dante Romano is very desperate.”

Dimitri took another sip of whisky, considering Mike’s words.

”That is IF he survives,” Dimitri said finally. ”And if he still hasn’t learned his lesson after this, if he still comes at me again...”

Dimitri’s eyes turned absolutely cold.

”I’ll blow off his brain the next time he crosses me,” Dimitri finished, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

Mike looked at him and shook his head slowly, but there was a slight smile on his face.

”You know, most of the time you behave like a lunatic,” Mike said. ”A brilliant, tactical, dangerous lunatic. But a lunatic nonetheless.”

He shook his head again, but the smile remained.

Dimitri took a deep sip from his glass and stood up.

”Well, your lunatic friend is also in love with your sister,” Dimitri said, pointing directly at Mike. ”So watch my back if you don’t want me dead. Because we wouldn’t want your sister to cry.”

There was warmth beneath the words...genuine affection masked in tactical language.

Mike understood the message: Dimitri would fight to stay alive because Eve needed him alive.

Dimitri walked toward the door, already thinking about the shower, about Eve, about the night ahead.

Mike stopped him one more time.

”What are you going to do about Isabella?” Mike asked. ”It won’t take long for her father to come asking for her.”

Dimitri didn’t turn back.

He simply spoke from where he stood, his voice calm and certain.

”Let him come for her then,” Dimitri said. ”Then I’ll have a word with him.”

He walked out of the office without waiting for a response.

The door closed behind him.

And in the silence of the office, Mike understood that Isabella Russo had become a bargaining chip in a much larger game.

A game between Dimitri Valentino and Lorenzo Russo.

A game that was only just beginning.

***

Dimitri walked through the penthouse toward the master bedroom.

Behind him, the office door was closed. Mike was still processing the conversation.

Ahead of him, he could hear the sound of the shower running.

Eve.

He could hear her moving in the bathroom, could imagine her stepping into the shower, the water cascading over her skin, washing away the last remnants of fear and captivity.

Dimitri’s pace quickened.

Because for all the strategy, for all the calculation, for all the games being played with Dante Romano and Lorenzo Russo and Isabella’s fate, there was one truth that overrode everything else:

Eve was waiting for him.

And he would not make her wait any longer.