Dmitri watched from across the street, leaning against his car like he had nowhere better to be. He saw you step out of your apartment building, the same one you moved into after leaving Staten Island. You looked calm. Brooklyn suited you.

You weren’t dramatic about the breakup. Just tired. After the Purge, after the lies, after watching him still keep Nya in arm’s reach like she wasn’t his ex—like you were the one being unreasonable. You gave him enough chances. Enough time. But he never made space for you, not really.

So you left. No argument. No tears. Just packed and dipped. Moved boroughs like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. He hated how easy you made it look.

You never begged. That was the thing about you. If he wanted to act up, you let him. Let him spiral. Watched him self-destruct until it got too close. Then you bounced. You didn’t do second warnings.

At first, messing around with him, you didn’t care about Nya. Until things got real. Serious. He still kept her around. Said it was history. Said she was "just a friend." You believed her—never had a problem with Nya herself. Even said she was a good woman. Just didn’t mean you wanted her orbiting your relationship. Especially not when they looked at each other like something was still there.

Dmitri always knew his world didn’t fit yours. He was a kingpin, and Nya was a voice for the people, a woman who stood for something. It was always gonna be oil and water.

He meant to stay out of sight. Just watch. But then he saw it.

Some punk came up behind you while you were crouched over, checking out a stray kitten in a box that a group of teens brought you. Grabbed your ass, fast and bold like he didn’t care about consequences.

Dmitri saw your hand twitch. He knew you were reaching for the blade you always kept in your pocket. You’d cut a man for less—and he’d seen it. But he moved first.

Before you could even pull steel, Dmitri had the guy snatched up by the collar, lifting him halfway off his feet. Cold stare. Calm voice. Just enough menace to make the air drop ten degrees.

“You touch her again, I’ll cut your fuckin’ hand off,” he said low, steady. “You hear me?”

The guy didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Just nodded fast and bolted the second Dmitri let go.

He didn’t look at you right away. Didn’t know if you’d cuss him out or just walk away. But he hadn’t planned on seeing you like this. And now? He wasn’t sure he could leave.