Blood and Bones Part l

AU / AH

Dimitri Belikov: a man with a violent temper and an urge to belong. He fights for the illustrious Ibrahim Mazur in exchange for a steady and high income. But he didn't intend for a forbidden affair to put his life in danger.

Rose Mazur: an enigma that enthrals anyone around her – including one Dimitri Belikov. She has everything she could ever want, all except a certain Russian though.

*Mature Themes and Language Warning*

Ibrahim 'Zmey' Mazur was most commonly known as the owner of one of the largest property development companies in America. Abe possessed not only several acres of raw land that he planned to build on, but also abandoned or empty buildings that had renovation potential. Every month or so, Abe held extravagant and invite-only events to attract interest in these empty properties.

Well, that was what the local law enforcement was led to believe.

What truly happened behind those closed and safeguarded doors was far more immoral than fundraising. Week after week; and month after month; men and women flocked to the abandoned and isolated venues which promised them an evening of money, booze and pure aggression.

And aggression is what they got.

There were plenty of legal and regulated fights in the city, but they lacked the danger and the same winnings that the illegal rings did.

Mazur Enterprises was a key player in the illegal fight clubs that plagued America. Entire task forces had been set up within Police and Government Agencies to decimate the dangerous underground fight clubs. It wasn't just the leaders of the rings these agencies were after either; anyone who merely attended Mazur's events or others was essentially committing a crime.

Of course, the possibility of prosecution had never deterred Zmey. The illustrious and bloodthirsty 'businessman' was compared regularly to some of the most notorious gangsters that had ever graced the cities of America, dating all the way back to the Prohibition era – and he dressed like it too. In his eyes and that of his fleet of lawyers, he owned the properties the fights occurred on – nothing was wrong with that.

Abe had been involved in the Turkish Mob since he was a young boy. When he immigrated to America as a young adult, he never dropped his ties to the Mob nor did he want to. Under the illusion that he was a wealthy and honest businessman, Abe took Northeast America and made it his playground.

When his fights had become big enough, he handed Mazur Enterprises into the capable hands of his wife, Janine, and began dedicating all of his time and effort into these said fights and any other illegal extracurricular activities that he may have enjoyed. He began enlisting ruthless fighters from all over the country. They weren't just men desperate for money anymore, but men and women who were trained or could be trained. The fighters had to be in peak physical condition – they were even required to sign a waiver that stated they understood the grievous bodily harm they would both inflict and receive during their time inside the ring.

Those said risks normally fell on deaf ears once the fighters knew how much money they were fighting for. Most fights had a prize pool big enough to set the winner up for life.

Dimitri Belikov was not one of those men, however. Dimitri had been discovered during a celebration held by Mazur's fighters after a "fundraiser", in which he had propelled himself into a bar fight with some of the said fighters. Abe's men had watched with awe – and even a dash of horror – as Dimitri dispatched his opponents with nothing more than solid hooks. When they had discovered just how plastered Dimitri had been during the bust-up, they were sure he was exactly the type of recruit their boss was constantly searching for.

With Dimitri's mind on the money and what it could do for his family back in Russia, he'd accepted Abe's proposition. His family was by no means starving, but a little extra money to stop his mama from working two jobs wouldn't go astray.

What Dimitri hadn't expected when he shook hands with the businessman, was to become caught up in a game of sex, love and violence. But it was exactly what he got.

Mazur's fights had reached a point where they had become the pinnacle of Ibrahim's entire company. His fights were unsanctioned, unregulated, and most importantly, without any guidelines. Money circulated through the fights like water did through pipes. If you picked your fighters well, you won big. But those who bet big on the wrong fighters lost everything plus some.

That was where Abe enlisted the men he trusted most to do some collecting for him. The team worked closely with him, normally providing personal security at the same time. But he felt he was missing something from the team. Pavel and Johnson were strong and intimidating men, but beyond anything else, Abe enjoyed seeing the fear and panic in the eyes of whoever Dimitri Belikov faced. He planned to harness that terror Dimitri could inflict, and push it onto the gamblers that had the audacity to skip out of their collections.

That was how Dimitri became caught up in the world of money and power. He'd begun as a recruit – fighting and earning major money on the side – to serving on Abe's most vital and trusted team.

Among earning more money and respect than he had ever thought possible in such a profession, it wasn't what made him stay in the job. Because besides being introduced to the money, it was also how Dimitri was introduced to her.

The abandoned cotton mill on Aurora Avenue normally instilled a chilling impression on whoever passed it, but when a Thursday landed on the first day of the month, that unnerving silence was broken by the cries and chants of hundreds of wealthy spectators – spectators who were dressed as if they were going to the opera rather than an illegal fight.

Aurora Avenue was merely only one of Ibrahim's many sites where he hosted these events. He passed the fights around his properties to avoid bringing too much attention to the sites that were meant to be empty.

The cotton mill was the biggest and most popular ring he had created. The punters sometimes even crossed state lines to see the fights – as they were also his most spectacular.

That night, the three families that controlled the underworld streets of Northeast America had gathered for the show that Mazur was putting on for them. The Mazur family had promised bloodshed; the Lazar family had thrown their hat in the ring, and the Dashkov family was perfectly content in watching the battle from above and reaping its benefits.

From the confines of the old and run down staff locker room, Dimitri sat and listened to the screams and shouts of spectators as men before him pummelled each other into unrecognizable messes. He inhaled deeply to calm his nerves but was gifted with the stench of sweat that could have passed for days old. The smell didn't usually bother him, but that night he was being forced to stay put in the locker room and wait until he was called.

He hated having to wait until last. Normally there would be fights he would participate in through the night – heats as such – that determined who fought in the final. But it was different this time. It was a particularly special night to Ibrahim Mazur. It was a night where he would be showing off Dimitri's brutality and skill against whoever the Lazar family deemed fit.

Dimitri was his show pony for the night, but the payout was overwhelming. He was more than willing to play along with Ibrahim's game if it meant that he would be able to bring his entire family over for Christmas if he won.

But Dimitri hadn't been told whom he would be fighting. No one but the Lazar family knew who his opponent was. It would be kept secret up until they faced each other inside the ring.

In an attempt to control his biting nerves, Dimitri imagined that he was anywhere but at the cotton mill. Unsurprisingly, his mind travelled back to two weeks prior. He rewatched the Mazur Enterprises Christmas party through closed eyes.

It had gotten messy, as those parties always did. When you mixed that much alcohol with men that fought for a living, it could only be expected they would begin holding their own fights. But Dimitri didn't focus on the drunken brawl section of the night. No. He focused entirely on the movements of the women – or more so, one woman in particular.

He conjured up an array of memories from that night – memories of his eyes running over the soft and supple skin that was left exposed by her dress as she chatted and danced. He reimagined her eyes as they bore into his – the lust in them burning holes into his mind, as her lips would curl in a sultry smile.

He sat in silence as he let the memories consume him to the point he was completely emersed in them. It didn't take much at all for his mind to be transported from the party to the more carnal events of that night.

At that point, Dimitri was completely lost in his fantasy. He was no longer sure what was real or what was imaginary. Either way, he also hadn't realized how much time had passed.

He was abruptly and annoyingly shaken back to the present.

Ice blue eyes bore into his own and Dimitri had to swallow the lump in his throat just to be able to speak once more.

"Snap out of it, Belikov. You're up," Christian Ozera smiled excitedly while bouncing on the balls of his feet – clearly unable to hide his anticipation for the upcoming fight.

Dimitri sighed softly, frustrated that his handler had taken up all his vision space.

They used the term 'handler' as slang within Mazur's organization. It was a job that entailed the maintenance and care of Abe Mazur's fighters. The 'handlers' were really just glorified personal trainers. Each handler had on average four or five fighters for which they had to create training schedules and organize meal plans for.

However, due to Ibrahim's favouritism over a certain Russian and his position within collecting, Dimitri was the only fighter under Christian's care.

Dimitri reluctantly got to his feet. He shook out his wrists and cracked the bones in his neck before following Christian through the mill's abandoned halls. Dimitri could hear the cries getting loud and louder. With another fight in its final moments, the crowd was beginning to erupt into a frenzied fit. No one wanted to lose money on their bets, but Dimitri always wondered if they knew the shouting was rarely able to ignite a fighter who was close to being knocked out, especially when most of the men tuned out everything around them except their opponent.

Dimitri emerged at the edge of the makeshift ring just as another of Mazur's fighters delivered a final blow to his opponent. The hit sent him spiralling down to the hard concrete floor in a spray of blood.

With half of the surrounding crowd throwing abuse at the unconscious fighter on the ground, Eddie Castile exulted in the other half chanting his name. Raising his bloodied and torn knuckles into the air, a further outcry blossomed from yet another Mazur win.

When the announcements had been completed and the delirious fighter had been peeled from the ground, Dimitri was ushered into the ring to stand opposite his newest opponent.

Dimitri hadn't expected the Lazar family to pull this move. He had to refrain from outright laughing in his opponent's face.

Reed Lazar was the little prince of the Lazar family. He was a strong fighter from what Dimitri knew of him, but what he had in strength, he lacked in experience and skill. As far as Dimitri knew, Reed hadn't stepped into such a brutal ring before – let alone for a year straight like Dimitri had been.

Shaking hands with Reed, Dimitri could see the sudden flash of reluctance in his grey eyes. Dimitri knew he was looked intimidating. He was nothing but solid muscle and height. He had rope after rope of muscle that covered his body, and he always seemed to carry a dark and threatening look in his eyes wherever he went. He secretly revelled in seeing the fear projected in an opponent's eyes.

While turning back to face Christian, Dimitri grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion. That was when his eyes caught onto her.

The red dress in a sea of black was like seeing daylight after being lost in caves for days.

It was his salvation to see that colour.

She was above ground and situated in the improvised VIP balcony. What used to be the managerial offices back when the mill was in operation was now a ledge – created solely for those who were important or didn't want their presence wildly known. From the balcony, they could watch the fights without being pushed or touched, as well as keeping their invisibility.

The balcony had proved to have a perfect birds eye viewing point for those who Abe considered were important enough. That meant that she was always up there. While Abe's fighting ring may be the crown of his operation, she was the jewels encrusted into it. As Ibrahim Mazur's daughter, Rosemarie Mazur was always on the balcony. Those precious Louboutins never touched the same concrete as everyone else's shoes did.

But as good as the view was from above, Dimitri found it to be just as good from below. As always, Dimitri struggled to take his eyes off the brunette beauty above.

Whenever Dimitri gazed upon Mazur's daughter, he felt as if all the air was being ripped from his lungs and his feet kicked out from underneath him. She was simply breathtaking. Everything else around him would fade into murmurs and blurs, and he could only watch breathlessly as she made her way to the edge of the balcony.

In the space of a millisecond though, all of Dimitri's air was shoved roughly back down his throat – as well as a stowaway of jealousy.

The jealousy coursed through his veins like venom. He didn't even have a chance to catch himself before a sneer began to show across his face.

He stared up at Rose as his cousin, the promiscuous Adrian Ivashkov, came up behind her. He wrapped one arm possessively around her waist while the other reached up to hold her chin between his fingers. Dimitri's blood burned as he watched Adrian brush his lips against Rose's cheekbone – a cruel smile dancing on his face. To any onlookers, the kiss would appear as an innocent show of affection between two people in love – but it was vastly anything but.

Adrian and Rose stared down at Dimitri in the ring as he glared back up. Dimitri knew the kiss was anything but innocent affection. Adrian was taunting him. He had what Dimitri wanted.

Still trapped by her gaze, Dimitri watched intently as Rose brought her forefinger and thumb to her lips, creating a whistle that was faint to him but caught the attention of her intended target.

The bookie wandering around collecting money and giving out stubs looked up from the ground floor as she mouthed her bet. Her lips unmistakably conveyed "Belikov" before holding her palm up and displaying five perfectly manicured fingers. She was placing her bet on Dimitri – and Mazur's events increased in increments of tens of thousands, not just tens of dollars.

Fifty thousand dollars of her own money was riding on him winning this fight. Dimitri would be dammed if he let her down.

Seeing the silent clash between Dimitri and his boss' daughter, Christian nudged his shoulder into the fighter and ripped his attention away from the floor above.

Christian always swore up and down to his girlfriend that there was something going on between Dimitri and Rose. He couldn't ignore the looks that he would occasionally spot them giving one another. But if anyone had of known of there being a romance between the two, it would have been Lissa – Rose's best friend.

One thing he knew for sure though, was the faux relationship his friend was in.

"You know they aren't actually sleeping together, right? It's just for show," Christian said, attempting some sort of reassurance after noticing the anger on Dimitri's face.

He, among the others in his tight-knit group from their schooling days, knew that the relationship between Rose and Adrian was purely for show. Rose had been very open with them about Adrian wanting to get his name out and claimed her incentive was independence.

Ibrahim Mazur was a protective man who had rarely let his daughter grow up with her own dreams or choices. She, like Christian and Lissa, had been put into the prestigious and safeguarded boarding school, St Vladimir's. "The place where freedom went to die", as Rose had often referred to the school as.

Christian only wanted his childhood friend to be happy. But everyone knew how precious Mazur's daughter was to him. Dimitri was part of Abe's most trusted team. There would be no way in hell that a relationship between Rose and Dimitri would have been accepted in Abe's eyes.

Dimitri was well aware that Rose and Adrian weren't a real couple. It was true that Adrian wanted his name out and in the underworld. He wanted to be known in their world, and being the beau of Ibrahim Mazur's daughter meant that his name would be on many lips. He agreed to create a for-show relationship where he could get the recognition he wanted.

But Dimitri knew the true incentive she got from the charade. Along with her independence, Rose had a solid and reliable reason for being a consistent visitor at the unit that Dimitri and Adrian both shared.

In fact, earlier that morning it had been Dimitri's bed that Rose had left stinking of sex and aftershave – the same way she had been leaving it for the past year.

Rose was considered downright forbidden fruit to anyone in the organisation – fruit that Dimitri had been indulging in enough to get him killed.

Dimitri rolled his shoulders before speaking. "I know that. But it helps get me angry."

Shaking his head, Christian produced a lazy smirk. "Working?"

"Always does."

Upon first meeting Rose in Dimitri's unit a year ago, Adrian had openly expressed his interest in the desert princess. He even made nice with her father and managed to gain the mobster's approval. The men that patrolled the Mazur mansion all got used to him being around. The only person left to convince of his worthiness was Rose herself – however, Rose had already become the habitué of Dimitri's bed long before meeting Adrian. Her lover's younger cousin didn't even remotely sway her.

Dimitri knew that Rose was his. He claimed her over and over again every night. He had been determined to make Rose his from the moment he'd laid eyes on her a year ago, and to this day, she was still his and only his.

But that didn't mean that seeing Adrian place such an intimate kiss upon his woman didn't piss him off. It handed him the match that he needed to spark the rage inside him.

Turning from the balcony where Rose remained, Dimitri walked past Christian and into the blinding industrial white lights. He stood waiting in the ring with a smug smile on his face and anger running deep through his veins.

Reed Lazar didn't stand a chance and he knew it.

Despite Reed Lazar knowing he was fighting a losing battle, he pushed ahead and even managed to land some impressive hits on Dimitri.

By the end of the second round, both of the men were battered and bruised. Reed wore the brunt of the facial injuries that Dimitri had inflicted, but even though he was fighting through blood stinging eyes, Reed pushed on.

It wasn't just his loss of vision that Reed had to worry about. Blood was smeared all across his face from his cut eyebrow and his busted lip. His vision was beginning to blur and dance as his left eye started to swell shut. With every move Reed made, he would be spitting out the blood that had been filling his mouth since Dimitri's opening strike.

Dimitri's own lip was split and he had splotches of black and blue rapidly appearing across his jaw and cheekbones. But the worst of Dimitri's injuries appeared to be more torso directed rather than face – which didn't look like a plus actually the more he thought of it.

Dimitri had opted for the most abrasive tactic. You strike the head enough times and nature takes its course – there is no stopping that. But Reed focused on Dimitri's stomach and chest. If he landed a good enough blow, he easily knocked the wind out of Dimitri and left him momentarily breathless and wheezing.

Taking his short break, Dimitri greedily swallowed water from the bottle until Christian angrily snatched it away from him. The fighter didn't need to go drowning himself when he could be possibly badly injured.

What Christian did allow was a splash down to smear any blood out of Dimitri's eyes and away from his mouth. But no matter how many times he rinsed out his mouth, he just couldn't escape that coppery metallic taste. It disgusted him.

Twisting his torso, Dimitri hissed as a ripple of pain shot through his right side. The pain proved that an uppercut directed at Dimitri's ribcage had had the desired effect and most likely broken a rib or two.

But despite his ribs, Dimitri was still in better shape than Reed. When that bell went off to begin the next round, it wasn't only the fighters that knew one way or another round three would be the final round.

The crowd shrieked and screamed at the men as they circled each other, both of them still panting and dripping in sweat. Their cries were only white noise to the fighters though. They were nothing but the sounds of waves crashing as if they were standing on a deserted beach.

What mattered was that Dimitri remained concentrated on the fucker in front of him. One second of distraction was all it could take to end the fight once and for all.

Dimitri took a step towards Reed, finding their dance time wasting and irritating. But Reed pounced before Dimitri had dished out his own blow. The first punch skimmed Dimitri's chin. He noticed too late that it was a feint though. When the second punch came, he could have sworn that he heard something crack.

If anyone was to look around the crowd at that moment, they would see hundreds of faces worried they were about to lose thousands and thousands of dollars in no time at all. Above Dimitri on the VIP level, excited murmurs came from the Lazar family as they prepared themselves for a victory.

Rose and her father saw it very differently. Abe was well aware of Dimitri's temper and how he could use a burst of strength to his advantage. The father and daughter had no doubts about Dimitri's ability.

And fortunately for Dimitri, his years of bar fighting across two countries meant he could take the hit to his jaw like a champion. He was used to the pain and if anything, it only spiralled him into a blind rage.

His eyes bulged with fury as he stared at Reed, and the poor kid fell victim to Dimitri's unbridled wrath.

First, a powerful shove that sent Reed several feet away and making him lose his balance. Then another, as Dimitri pounced to stay within arms reach of him. While Reed attempted to regain his footing, Dimitri took the opportunity of the distraction and pushed his fist right into the centre of Reed's face.

The bones in his nose couldn't handle the force of Dimitri's knuckles, and they buckled and broke as easy as snapping a twig. Blood spurted from his nostrils and from a split that had appeared at the bridge of his nose.

The bloodlust was instant.

After blood – that wasn't his own – touched Dimitri's face, everything became a little hazy for him. He wasn't sure how many times his fist connected with Reed's face after that. Five? Maybe even ten?

He'd lost count.

The crowd of people surrounding the ropes yelled and screamed at Dimitri. Most yelled for him to hit Reed harder, but those in the crowd who knew the Lazar boy demanded that the mediator end the fight – it was undeniable at that point that Reed would be permanently scarred.

Dimitri wasn't thinking or even seeing coherently anymore and everyone could tell. It took three of Mazur's fighters to restrain Dimitri when the meditator finally ceased the fight due to knockout. Reed's unconscious body slacked to the ground as Dimitri was ripped away from continuing his assault.

The fight was over, and Mazur had once again come out on top. Those who had betted on Dimitri being victorious roared in delight. Even the classiest dresses and most sophisticated suits were unable to conceal the crazed and unbridled joy the majority of the crowd lost themselves into.

Dimitri winced as Christian tightened the bandage wraps around his ribcage. The old locker room was loud and hot with excitement. A lot of money had been won that night, and the boys were eager to celebrate.

But first came the clean-up.

Watered down blood pooled where the men quickly showered and dressed in their more comfortable and less bloodstained sweats. All except Dimitri who was seated and shirtless, still having his more major injuries tended to. He flexed his throbbing striking hand, cringing as he took in the mess his knuckles were in.

"You should probably go to a doctor or something, Belikov," Eddie chuckled while pulling a fresh shirt over his head.

"There doesn't seem to be anything broken," Christian answered while examining the developing bruises across his ribcage. "But you're going to be fucking sore, that's for sure."

As more of the men got fired up, the louder the locker room became. It could have rivalled that of a football team winning their grand final match. The men cheered as they flaunted how much money they had made from their fights – some much more than others.

Dimitri sat through the displays of testosterone with an amused grin. There was something addicting about the atmosphere of the locker room once the fights had all concluded. It was as if something was in the air and was pushing them to abandon all maturity.

Bit by bit, the boisterous mass of men began disappearing – most likely simply moving their party onto Outpost, the local bar. Before he knew it, Dimitri was sitting alone with Christian in the locker room, neither of them speaking. They just sat in comfortable silence up until the chime of Christian's phone broke the serenity.

"That's Liss, she's ready to head off."

Christian got to his feet and brushed his palms over his jeans. "Also, just because I don't think anything is broken, doesn't mean I don't think you should go see a professional."

Dimitri's smile morphed into a wide grin. He opened one eye to watch Christian. "What? Don't you like being my nurse?"

"Shut it, Belikov," Christian sneered jokingly.

"Nah, your right," Dimitri sighed, before grinning smugly again. "It's not the same when you don't wear the outfit."

Christian shook his head while laughing under his breath. "You need to get laid man." It was half a joke and half a push.

'If only you knew,' Dimitri thought to himself.

With a final smirk on his face, Christian backed up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "You sure you'll be right?"

"Your Princess is waiting," Dimitri reminded his handler a little harsher than he intended.

"They are still wrapping up everything upstairs. I reckon the place will be cleared within thirty minutes. I think Eddie is expecting you at Outpost tonight." Christian stated, making Dimitri raise an eyebrow.

As always, the other fighters all went out to the local bar after their fights. They usually complained about Dimitri's absence from their festivities.

But then again, none of the men knew why Dimitri never partied with them. Or more importantly, they never knew who he'd rather be spending his night with.

"What's the likelihood of you actually joining them for once?"

"Not very high," Dimitri mumbled quickly in response. With an accepting shrug and a final goodnight, Christian left the locker room leaving Dimitri finally alone.

Dimitri leaned back, letting the back of his head hit the tiled wall behind him softly. Thirty minutes. He could do that. He'd waited longer than that before.

Without realizing it, the bantering with Christian and the other men had made Dimitri temporarily forget about the pain in his hand. Now that he was alone, the throbbing had gotten worse. He agreed with Christian that nothing was broken, but his knuckles were raw and angry. Blood still wept slowly from the wounds and soaked into the towel he had covering it.

Groaning with a mixture of pain and annoyance, Dimitri heaved himself to his feet and walked the few steps to the large trough underneath the mirror. As his injured hand ran under the water, he couldn't hold in his wince while rubbing away the blood and broken skin.

"Thought you were tougher than that," a velvet voice echoed through the locker room. "Especially after what I just witnessed in that ring."

Releasing a breath, Dimitri smiled despite the pain in his hand. Even when she wasn't trying, she always sounded sultry and entrancing. Dimitri had heard this woman utter every curse word ever created - in multiple languages - and yet she still managed to make the harsh words sound alluring instead of rough.

Finally looking up and into the mirror, he found himself looking into the eyes of Rose Mazur: the daughter of one of the most powerful and lethal men in America. His Roza. Not anyone else's, just Dimitri's.

She looked even better than she had up on the balcony. Now that she was closer, he could see the sparkle in her eyes and the flawlessness of her skin. He couldn't miss the curvature of her cleavage or the twinkle of the diamond pendant hanging around her neck – a pendant that was a gift from Dimitri himself.

Rose never took it off.

The red of her dress was bright against her dark almond coloured skin. But it wasn't the colour that made Dimitri see stars in his vision or make his knees go weak. It was the way the strapless fabric hugged and accentuated her hourglass figure. It was the slit down the side of the dress that made his mouth practically water.

Dimitri turned slowly, flexing his hand as he went. Seeing Rose had made him forgot entirely about the pains emanating through his body.

"God you look beautiful," Dimitri said without realizing, making Rose's sultry smile become an all-out grin.

"I'd say ditto but you look like shit, comrade," she teased. Dimitri knew he looked beaten, and he'd even go as far to say he looked grotesque.

But Rose's smile didn't deter as she took in the bruises forming on his face. She bypassed his black eye and the cut on his cheekbone. Her eyes locked on his split lip, and Dimitri half expected her to sneer, but he should have known better. This wasn't the first time she had seen him so battered. She looked at him with the same awe and desire that she always did.

Her eyes flitted down to his mauled hand. "Come on, I'll bandage you up."

Dimitri watched Rose push herself from the wall and walk deeper into the locker room. He didn't move as she passed him. He just continued to watch while she sat on the bench near his gym bag and pulled out the things she needed.

She set one of his clean towels over her lap and looked up at him patiently.

What was Dimitri waiting for? There she was, and he was stuck on the spot just staring at her.

"The faster we get this done, the faster we can go home," she tempted, crossing one of her legs over the other and allowing the dress' split to open up around her skin. Dimitri watched the fabric with steady eyes but a racing heart. Only an inch more and it would have been more than her thigh on show.

Giving in, Dimitri allowed her to tend to his injuries. She had done it time and time again over the past year – sometimes with injuries worse than his hand. But she never complained. She was always happy to play the nurse when he needed help.

Just as he had done before, Dimitri hissed every now and again as she cleaned and disinfected his bare knuckles. The sound always made her smile as while she concentrated. It was a reminder that no matter how strong and how terrifying Dimitri was, he was still human at the end of the day.

Once the cuts on his hand were clean and bare, she began wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, ensuring that all the skin that had been marred was now covered. She patted his hand once done, looking up to find Dimitri staring at her with a small smile in the corner of his mouth.

"What?" she giggled.

The sound of her giggle only made Dimitri's heart clench. He brought her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Caught in the swirl of her eyes, Dimitri placed the hand he held in his own on his collarbone before taking her chin between his fingers. His thumb traced along her jaw, eliciting tremors out of her, followed quickly by goosebumps.

The air around them thickened as they held each other's eyes. It was almost as if their lust swirled like heady and intoxicating fumes around them.

"Is everyone gone?" Dimitri asked, moving closer so that his lips were only a hair's breadth away from Rose's.

He kissed her before she had finished nodding. She tasted of honey and vanilla. His head tilted to the side as he deepened the kiss, taking more of her and feeding a hunger that lived deep down inside both of them.

And Rose loved it, embraced it. Dimitri was pure passion, total, breath-stealing passion so great that it scorched her skin.

When Dimitri reached across and grabbed the thigh that was furthest away from him, Rose offered no resistance and allowed him to pull her into a straddling position over his hips. His. Breathless, she wound her arms around his neck and held him as tight to her body as his injuries allowed.

As their lips moulded, Dimitri's hand snuck into the split of her dress and under the chiffon folds. Rose groaned headily as Dimitri used his good hand to caress her now exposed thigh. As his fingers danced towards the insides of her thighs, those same groans became of an impatient nature.

Dimitri abruptly changed the course of his mouth, moving down to place rough and possessive kisses on her throat and then further down. Rose shivered as another moan escaped her. She threw her head back and arched into him, a plea for more. He let his tongue trace the curve of her cleavage while simultaneously attempting to pull the strapless dress down to expose her chest finally.

"Dimitri," Rose moaned. Her stomach quivered, shooting jolts of blissful, melting heat through the rest of her body.

Somewhere in the distance, a door slammed violently.

Startled, Rose jerked out of Dimitri's grasp and off of his lap. She was sure that everyone had left before she'd come to the locker room. She'd even watched as Lissa and Christian drove out of the car park. Nevertheless, Rose stared at the closed door leading out to the hall, half expecting someone to come bursting through and catch them.

What possibly put her further on edge was Dimitri's obliviousness. He stayed seated on the bench and only watched Rose as she stared. He wasn't worried. Buildings as old as the cotton mill always made sounds that weren't man-made.

"Roza," Dimitri sighed.

"What?"

"Nobody is there."

Rose wasn't convinced though. Something was making her feel sick to her stomach. Her entire body churned with dread. Somebody was still in the building. She just knew it; no matter what Dimitri said.

She stayed planted in her spot, staring at the closed door and listening out for any more sounds. But Dimitri still wasn't concerned. If anybody had heard them or knew they were there, they would have made themselves known.

He heaved himself to his feet, wincing as shudders of pain racked his body. But he didn't let it deter from his goal. He wanted to put Rose at ease.

He went for her waist, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her into his chest. She struggled at first, squirming to escape a grasp that couldn't be covered up if someone caught sight of it. He ignored her struggle and concern.

Rose was too deep in her thoughts for an embrace to settle her though. So Dimitri attempted to distract her.

"I hate sneaking around with you," he confessed.

"I hate it too. But my father would kill you if he ever knew about us."

"Does that make it not worth it? I couldn't give a fuck at this point what your father thinks of me, or how badly he would want to kill me. I'm still his best asset."

"That doesn't matter one bit, Dimitri. You may be his best fighter - yes. But in his eyes, you are only that, no matter what stuff on the side you do for him. You're disposable to him. He won't hesitate in proving that when he finds outs you've been busy deflowering his daughter in-between fights."

Dimitri let out a low chuckle that tremored through his chest and consequently, tumbled through her. The sound comforted her and she instinctively fell deeper into his hold.

"You feel something, Roza." She tensed immediately. "You can pretend you don't all you want, but I've seen it. I see it when you are watching me and think I don't notice. I see it when you're parading yourself around in Adrian's arms. But most importantly, I see it when I'm fucking you."

She didn't deny his words, but she also didn't admit to them either. She shivered as his hot breath caressed the skin of her throat and made her stomach swirl. "After a year, there is no way you can say this is just sex."

Rose felt the pangs of arousal return and stab at her abdomen. It seemed that no matter what Dimitri said, she couldn't escape how his accent alighted something deep down inside of her. A yearning.

Dimitri knew he had her right where he wanted. They had never admitted if there were any feelings deeper than pleasure swirling between them, but if she asked, Dimitri would tell Rose that he was absolutely and irrevocably in love with her.

He would tell her that she was the light of his life and his reason to get up in the morning. He would tell her that he had dreamed of a life they could make for themselves – no fights, no mobsters and nothing but them. He had had dreams where she bore his children and where they married quietly; living out their days together.

But he never told her these dreams. She told him what he was getting into when he had been introduced to her over a year ago when - when she was only just shy of eighteen. She told him that he was signing up for a secretive and dangerous affair – but he hadn't cared at the time.

Dimitri had been so caught up in everything Rose, that he would have agreed to anything she had asked of him. But now he wished that he could kiss her in public or do something as small as going with her when she went shopping.

"It doesn't matter what I feel, Dimitri." That was a victory in Dimitri's eyes.

Dimitri lowered his head, brushing his lips upon the pulse point in her neck. He took the skin into his mouth, suckling on it before giving it a teething bite. Just like that, Rose was putty in his arms.

She moaned, bringing a hand up to cup that back of his head and ensure he didn't stray too far from her.

"We'll leave."

She froze, not even able to remove her hand from him. "What?" she squeaked.

"We can start again. We can leave all this behind and settle down by ourselves."

"We will never be able to settle down. He will find me wherever we go," Rose sighed with a hint of sadness. Dimitri could have sworn that that sadness had meant she wanted more than anything to go with him.

"Then we stay on the move – always one step ahead of him." He paused, letting the thought sink into her mind. "It's an adventure, Roza. You always said you wanted to venture out of the estate's gates."

It was a risky move on Dimitri's part. He had attempted to appeal to the part of Rose that hated her father's protective nature – but it could have just as easily backfired on him.

"Think it over, milaya," he mumbled, using the hands on her waist to turn her in his arms to face him. "I know it's a big step...but I'd risk everything for you."

Rose looked up at him wide-eyed, knowing if he said what she thought he was about to say, she would crumble.

"I love you."

Rose closed her eyes feeling tears stinging. She wouldn't show how much those words affected her. To finally hear them was like hearing celebratory trumpets inside her head. She had never doubted his feelings for her but imagining him saying he loved her was nothing compared to him actually saying it.

So why couldn't she say it back? She gaped, her mouth opened to tell him she loved him too, but the words couldn't form. Why? Because deep down, Rose knew that it was dangerous for her to say those words.

She'd dreamed of not having to think about her actions around Dimitri. She wanted to be able to openly claim Dimitri as her own, and she, his. She wanted to show everyone around her the love she had for the man in front of her. But doing such a thing practically signed Dimitri's death certificate. There was no scenario that would have Dimitri come out unscathed.

It was obvious what was occupying Rose's thoughts. Dimitri could decipher it purely by the sad look in her eyes. It was a look he never liked seeing on her as he'd always endeavoured to make her happiness his top priority.

There was another slamming of doors, and there was no way it was just coincidental anymore. Someone was still in the building and they would have to wrap their conversation up quickly so they didn't get caught.

"Three hours – my unit."

Rose gaped at first, shaking her head slightly as she tried to say no. But it never came, just like the confession of her love had never come. Both times she had held her tongue because she was scared, but now, she needed to make a choice.

Rose nodded sharply as she finally made her mind up.

Abe was waiting patiently in the passenger seat of his car when Pavel returned. His eyes hadn't once left the black Mercedes parked in the lot. He was beyond curious as to why exactly his daughter was still inside the empty cotton mill.

"I couldn't find anyone. Perhaps she left something behind and Belikov didn't want to leave her by herself," Pavel tried to reason as he got back behind the wheel of the SUV.

"Perhaps," Abe drawled, looking further beyond his daughter's Mercedes and at the dark green truck parked near the trees.

Pavel was worried, and he dared a look at Johnson sitting in the back seat. He hadn't been able to find Rose or Belikov inside the mill. But then again, he hadn't searched very well purposely. He'd avoided the locker room and the VIP area so that he wouldn't be forced to take action if he found something.

He liked Belikov and he'd known Rose her entire life. If his suspicions were correct, he didn't want to be the one to alert his boss of the possibility of an indiscretion.

Johnson, the other security personnel in the vehicle, showed a similar reaction to Pavel. He too had suspected something going on between the pair but hoped for Belikov's sake, that Pavel had found nothing inside the mill.

"Shall we head out?" Pavel prompted, trying to get the hell out the lot as soon as possible.

"I guess," he sighed. "You really couldn't find them?"

Pavel swallowed the lump in the throat. "Nowhere to be found."

Abe waited for another gruelling minute. Every second that he spent staring out of the window, sent Pavel more on edge.

He thought everything was in the clear when Abe turned away from the window and faced the front. But then a flash of red appeared in the corner of Pavel's eye, and it wasn't only himself that caught it.

Abe's head snapped to the entrance of the mill where his daughter was leaving, escorted by Belikov. They seemed platonic and unconcerned. They didn't look around the parking lot nervously, nor did they touch except for the hand on Rose's back as Dimitri led her out to her car.

Pavel sucked air into his lungs. All Belikov had to do was put Rose in her car and walk to his own - there would be nothing to incriminate him. Pavel could see Abe watching them intently, trying to find one false move.

When Rose and Dimitri reached her car, Pavel held his breath. 'Don't do anything stupid, Belikov', he prayed to himself. But when Dimitri leant down to place a soft kiss on Rose's lips, he couldn't hide his anguish. In a show of frustration, Pavel hit the back of his head against the headrest and scrunched up his face.

The temperature of the car ramped up and Abe was at breaking point. Pavel could only imagine the thoughts running through his boss' mind. But he had to admit that he was impressed with how well Abe had held his composure so far.

The three men watched Rose lower herself into the luxury car as it purred to life. Dimitri stuck his head through the window, giving her a final kiss before she sped out of the parking lot. They then watched Dimitri's get into his own vehicle and do the same.

"Follow him," Abe muttered as he looked dead ahead of him.

Pavel's heart thundered in his chest as he started the car up. He didn't know what Abe had planned, but after working with the man for over two decades, he knew not to expect good things.

Dimitri breezed into his unit feeling higher than life.

Rose had agreed to leave with him! She'd picked him over her expensive cars and disposable income – not that he for a second thought that Rose was that vain or materialistic. She had proved time and time again that she didn't need her father's fortune to be happy, but the life she had been born into was an easy one to adjust into.

If Dimitri's younger sister, Viktoria, ever found out about Rose's wealth, she would probably faint! But Rose had always been humble about her advantage in the rat race, she never once flaunted her money in front of those less fortunate than her.

Still in a happy daze, Dimitri's eyes caught onto the scribbled note stuck on the fridge with a magnet.

Gone to church, don't wait up – Adrian.

Dimitri laughed to himself. 'Church' was Adrian's code for going and seeing Sydney – a woman Dimitri couldn't believe had even looked in Adrian's direction.

Adrian had met the religious blonde while dropping his car off at her mother's garage. To say that Sydney had despised Adrian after their initial meeting was an understatement. She couldn't stand his mere presence and she loathed that flirtatious smirk he always wore on his lips – the same smirk that usually had women falling at his feet.

But Adrian, on the other hand, had been absolutely taken with her. When Sydney refused to go out for dinner or even just a drink with him, Adrian began purposely tampering with his car so he would have a reason to return to the garage. He sometimes returned to the garage four times a week with a blown gasket or something more mediocre – like changing the light in his taillight.

It had taken months of these visits before Sydney finally agreed on a date – and now the rest was history.

It had just reached the hour mark that Dimitri had been back at his unit when there was an irregular knock at the door. Dimitri ceased packing his duffels full of clothes and cash he had kept hidden from his winnings, and cautiously entered the living space of his unit.

He wanted to take a look outside to see who was at the door, but he had no peephole, and the venetian blinds meant there was no way to stealthy take a sneak peek.

Perhaps it wasn't anything to worry about; it could just be Rose being early?

'Then why did she knock?' A voice echoed in the back of Dimitri's mind. 'She has a key. Why doesn't she just use it?'

The voice had a point. Rose had always had a key to Dimitri's unit. It had been a long time since she had had the need to knock on his door. He hadn't heard a car pull up, and the growl of Rose's high-powered car was unmistakable.

'She dumped the car and left the keys in it so it would be stolen!' A similar voice reasoned with him. 'Don't leave her waiting out in the cold, open the door!'

Stupidly, Dimitri let the voices deep inside his mind relax him. He let them talk him into believing that it was just Rose behind the door. So when he did unlatch the lock and swing the door open, he wasn't prepared to be looking dead into the same brown eyes – but which belonged to a man.

Dimitri froze. He stood in the doorway with one hand still on the wood, the other by his side. Why the fuck was Abe at his home? Abe had never come to his home before! And why did he have such a murderous look in his eyes?

The realisation came crashing down on Dimitri. He knew.

Acting without thinking, Dimitri lunged from the door and to the small hallway table, which housed a gun in its draw. But Dimitri wasn't quick enough.

Before he had even made it halfway to his weapon, he was struck to the ground by a powerful force. He was already weakened and sore from the fight not even two hours ago, so he crumbled helplessly under the weight of his attacker.

Gasping for air, Dimitri looked up from his place on the floorboards to see both Pavel and Johnson – his colleagues – hovering over him menacingly.

"Pick him up," Abe grunted as he let himself into Dimitri's home, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he did. Without giving Dimitri another passing glance, Abe began moving deeper into the unit and towards the conjoined living and kitchen area.

Dimitri could have sworn that he saw a flash of reluctance pass through Pavel's eyes at Abe's order. But as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Both of the men returned to exhibiting stone expressions as they lifted Dimitri and followed after.

Blood and Bones Part ll

Dimitri and Rose's illicit love affair has been discovered by none other than the one person they wanted it hidden from the most. With Dimitri missing from his unit and Rose knowing the only place her father would take him too, will she be in time to save him from her own blood?