Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Sixty Two

Two Hours Earlier

Sven

As I stroll through the boat's cabin, I navigate with a sense of purpose, the gentle sway of the vessel adding a rhythmic quality to my movements. My gaze scans the shelves, searching for the familiar bottles of alcohol that Dimitri enjoys keeping close at hand.

This boat has always been a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of his everyday life and is usually reserved for his cherished holidays. It serves as an escape for him and Lucia, a serene retreat on the picturesque island that Dimitri takes great pride in owning. This slice of paradise is not merely a yacht; it is a legacy that proves his ability to accumulate things over inheriting them from his father and even his grandfather before him.

Dimitri presents a facade of stoicism, his expression often unyielding and impenetrable. Yet beneath this rugged exterior lies a complex and vulnerable soul that only a select few have been fortunate enough to encounter. Me being one of those souls.

This, I believe, epitomises the plight of Mafia men, each one bearing the weight of expectations passed down from their fathers. They're moulded by traditions that, rather than nurturing, often inflict deep psychological scars to gain desirable behaviours.

Having observed this dynamic up close, I felt a profound sense of disappointment as I watched Dimitri father Luca as he stepped into his teenagehood, imposing similar burdens on his son that he swore he would avoid to break the generational traumas he lived with. However, there was a notable distinction; Dimitri harboured a sense of remorse for his actions, unlike his predecessor, signalling a glimmer of improvement compared to the oppressive moulding Dimitri himself endured under his father's strict hand.

Despite the lingering shadows of my disdain for his choices over the years, Dimitri resolutely accepted the person he had become—a choice that forged a chasm between us. Yet, amid the veil of my unhappiness, his protective instincts remained unwavering. Even as we navigated the complexities of our strained relationship, his watchful care for my well-being persisted, a silent testament to the bond we still shared beneath the surface. So, you see, this island became my second home, and I spent so much time here between jobs.

You could say I have always been enveloped in a blanket of care and support. Like a devoted brother, he has made sure that my every need is met without hesitation.

Swiping a sip of cognac from the bottle I pluck off the shelf, I savour the warmth that spreads through me as I pour myself a generous measure into the tumbler waiting on the side. In the dim light, I fumble for my battered phone, a relic of a device more akin to a burner than anything else. Its SIM card is barely a month old and is already nearing its end.

The thought of reaching out to Dimitri flits through my mind, but I remind myself of the rules that govern my actions—communication is reserved for moments of life and death.

Is this truly a matter of life and death, I ponder?

No, no, it isn't, Sven—not yet.

My thoughts spiral as I move around the cabin once again. Contemplating my subsequent actions.

Bianca is like a live wire, crackling with unpredictable energy, ready to snap at any moment. Meanwhile, Niko stands there, blissfully ensnared in her web, too enamoured to notice the lurking shadows of danger that suggest she may be far from the innocent facade she presents.

The events of the day swirl in my mind like a vivid tapestry, each thread intertwining with the last. I can't shake how her personality shifted so effortlessly, morphing from a delicate damsel in distress to a fierce vixen poised for battle. It left me reeling,a sensation akin tothe sharp crack of whiplash across my skin. Yet, through it all, Niko remained unfazed, his composure unwavering amidst the chaos of her ever-changing demeanour.