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“Fuck your mother and your whore!” With a growl, he reaches under his desk, wincing before attempting to launch himself out of his chair.
Sergei’s quick, but I’m quicker, and the moment I see the glint of the blade in his hand, I don’t hesitate in pulling the trigger. He stumbles backward, his eyes widening and a stain of red blooming across his chest.
“Iius Khristos!” Dropping to his knees, he clutches his chest dramatically as a blade clatters to the floor. “Can you assholes not aim?”
Only then do I notice the wound on his right thigh. It looks like someone tried to take out his dick. My chest squeezes at the thought of my mom fighting until the end. “Maybe she wanted you to bleed out as slowly as I do.”
He’s wheezing, but I have no idea if it’s from the gaping hole in his shoulder, his leg, or the growing black smoke filtering into the room. Glancing down, I see the blade he dropped and raise an eyebrow. I’m impressed. I expected a dagger, not huge Russian shashka.
Tucking my gun in its holster, I crouch down and inspect it with renewed interest. “Nice sabre. Sharp and single-edged with a curved blade. Should work just fine.”
He glances to the right. “Nikolai, please…”
My anger and hatred get the better of me. “Please?” Grabbing him by the tie, I haul him off the floor and back into his chair. “How many times did Ava beg you please? How about my mother? Did she beg you pleasetoo?”
I don’t wait for him to answer. Nothing he could say will change the outcome. “I wish I could carve you up piece by piece, Sergei, but I have to be going. Give my best to your bastard step-son.” I raise the sword in the air and with one powerful swing, the blade slices through flesh and bone, sending the decapitated head of the Miami Bratva boss sailing across the room.
It slams against the wall, and a satisfied wave of justice surges through me as a horrified scream pierces the thick air. Before I can investigate, there’s movement to my right along with labored breathing.
There’s someone else here.
I curse my own recklessness. In my rush to end Sergei, I forgot one of the main rules of business—always secure the perimeter. Dropping the sword, I pull my gun while scanning the room. Unfortunately, the smoke has thickened, and I can barely see a few feet in front of me. Covering my mouth and nose with my jacket, I move to finish this.
After a quick sweep of the room, I find a pair of dainty feet crouched behind the long heavy curtain. A woman. One of his favorites probably. If I had a soul left, this is where I might give a shit.
“You saw what I did, so you only have two options,” I call out. “If you come out here on your own, I’ll end this quickly.”
Only a moron would accept those terms. She has to know the steps she takes will be her last. I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time. I should pull the trigger and be done with it.
Then I see the lava-red hair.
Ava.
She cocks her head. “What’s option two?
“What the hell are you doing here? Where is Mikhail?”
She takes a tentative step closer, and my immediate reaction is to grab her and shake the shit out of her, but I don’t. She has that blank look again. The one from the basement.
“You said I have two options, but you only offered one.” She tries for an even tone, failing miserably as she scrubs her balled fists up and down her bare thighs.
Her momentary bravado crumbles, and thankfully it’s rerouting some much-needed blood back to my brain. I motion to where most of Sergei’s body lay in a puddle of blood. “You want to know the other? Ask him.”
My threat isn’t empty. I’ve done much worse in less time.
Her brows crease as her eyes lower to my stomach. “You’re bleeding.”
“Courtesy of some asshole waiting for me outside Seven. Don’t get your hopes up though, I’m fine.”
She bows her head, staring at her feet.
“However, in case you’re interested, Dmitry didn’t fare so well. Your friend Rose found him in his office slit ear to ear, but from the look on your face, you don’t look all that surprised.”
I stare down at her, her finger twisting mercilessly around something round and silver. There’s no way. Grabbing her hand, I lift it up to get a better look. A perfect metal circle with a long pin attached—exactly what I thought. I don’t know if I’m more shocked, pissed, or impressed. Maybe all three.
“Holy shit. Were you the one who set off the—”
Before I can finish, she walks past me and stands over the head of her beheaded father, her bare feet bathed in his warm blood. Every killer’s instinct roars at me to throw her over my shoulder and get the hell out, but I’m mesmerized.
