Page 32 of Savage Throne

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Page 32 of Savage Throne

I swallowed.

“Basically, I was scared on that carousel.”

“Even if I wanted to do it, Moni wouldn’t have let me.”

“That I hoped for too.” For a moment, Dima stood there in silence as if lost in thought.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded shaky. “Lei. . .do you think Barbara Whiskers is in heaven with Viktor, Romeo, and Chanel?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

The question was so simple yet loaded with deeper layers I hadn’t expected from Dima, at least not tonight. But then again, Dima had always been like that, complex in ways most never understood.

“Is that stupid for me to ask?” There was something behind his eyes, a kind of uncertainty that seemed so uncharacteristic for him. “She was just a cat, but. . .”

I took a deep breath, not really knowing what to say at first. I wasn’t used to these conversations. Hell, none of us were, but Dima had a way of focusing on things others might overlook.

I cleared my throat. “I think. . . well, maybe she is with Viktor. If heaven’s out there, why wouldn’t she be?”

“I didn’t want to lose her.”

“I know.”

His gaze shifted to somewhere past me, perhaps on the stairs behind me. “I’m tired of losing people that I love.”

I could see him struggling, the flood of emotions he rarely let out threatening to overwhelm him.

For someone like Dima, who thrived on control and logic, feelings were messy, unpredictable, and something he couldn’t always prepare for.

Dima ran his fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t have brought Rose or Barbara here tonight.”

“Don’t do that. You held it together this evening. You kept Rose safe. She’s still here.”

Dima didn’t respond immediately but I could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he was trying to reconcile what had happened.

He put his view on me. “Duck gave me the monks that helped your father keep us on that carousel.”

“They’re yours to deal with.”

“You do understand what will happen with them?”

“I can imagine.”

His expression hardened and went ice-cold. “I’m going to torture them until they pray for death and then. . .I’m going to torture them some more.”

His words hung in the air like smoke from a smelly cigar, choking and inescapable.

A cold chill sliced through me.

“You need us more than you think. I will be at the feast tomorrow night with three of my trusted men. Banks and Marcelo will be there too. I will make sure they limit their men to three also.”

“No guns or other weapons.”

“I’ll respect that.”

“Stay quiet and at the back tables. The closer you are to my father’s table, the more you’re someone he can kill, just to get my head out of the game.”

“You said he wants to die—”