Sapphire

Chapter 1

A/N: Agent 47 aka Dimitri, was Jonas's partner from the pervious book, The Amber Queen.

He should of known they were coming for him.

"You knew we were coming for you. Why didn't you run?"

He should've ran.

A sharp kick struck his bruised ribs, a groan leaving his bloody mouth, "Answer me!" his attacker demanded.

Dimitri glared at him through his good eye, the other already swollen shut, "Why fight?" he said, his voice hoarse, "You killed my partner. You ruined my cover at the CIA and you killed my family."

His attacker laughed, "Ah yes. You're the last of the powerful Romanov family." Dimitri hissed through his teeth at the mention of his family. "A royal family that met a tragic end," his father had said in a drunken night, the alcohol reviving nostalgic memories of Dimitri's grandmother who died when he was merely five. Anastasia was her name, the last royal to survive the tragic killings during the rebellion.

She could've taken the throne after the war but she fell in love with a soviet soldier who loved the peaceful countryside. But eventually happiness always ended, their peaceful lives were ruined when death rolled through the family. When he was two his grandfather died, at the age of five, his grandmother followed. And when Dimitri turned six his mother was tragically killed in an accident, breaking his poor father's heart. For Dimitri, everything went downhill from there. His father died from alcohol poisoning when he was ten, forcing him to live on the streets. He made friends, none of them a good influence.

A sharp punched to his bruised jaw bought him out of his past, bringing him to the present.

"Vladimir," someone said outside of his cell, "There is someone who is waiting to speak with the prisoner."

"We'll talk later," his attacker said with a huff, wiping away the sweat that accumulated on his forehead. He left, leaving Dimitri in the cold cell with his hands and feet bound tightly by rope that dug into his skin. Pain pulsed across Dimitri's body, every inch of himself sporting some kind of injury.

A groan left his lips, letting his head rest on the floor.

Dimitri knew his torturer. Blonde with cold green eyes, his Russian features giving him a rather rugged appearance and tattoos of the Russian mafia decorating his arms. Vladimir. A man Dimitri had grown up with, a constant competition between the too. They fought against each other, wanting to gain the favor of their mafia boss, Ian. While Vladimir used his fists to rise up the ranks, Dimitri used his mind. His focus was the KGB, a perfect way for the mafia to infiltrate the Russian government but opportunities arose and becoming a double agent in the CIA seemed much more appealing than a simple right hand for a mob boss.

That was his first mistake.

Betraying a mafia boss is something a dead man would want, but in that moment in his life, Dimitri was ambitious. A young man who had grown up in the slums of Moscow, whored on the streets for his pretty features but when he joined the mafia, for the first time he felt power. Power to destroy those who wronged him when he was a young boy and now, his ambition had grown to surpass the old childhood friend who now was his enemy.

His second mistake was when he became close friends with Agent 12. Blonde hair and green that always seemed to know what flitted through Dimitri's mind during their missions. Partners that always seemed to be in sync with Agent 12 protecting his left and Dimitri protecting 12's right. They knew so much of each other and yet so little.

His heart burned inside his chest, twisting when 12's smiling image flitted through his mind. He never knew his name, but he knew what made him laugh, what his favorite food was or the little tick in his jaw that he got when he grew nervous.