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“Oh!” I look at him. My fury still burns hot. “Are your ribs sore?” I lean down and look him in the eyes, and he just smiles at me. I get even angrier when I see pride flashing in his fucking eyes.
I stand, and before I can stop myself, I land a kick to his side, eliciting a grunt from him. The fucking bastard doesn’t even give me the satisfaction of a painful howl.
“Mrs. Belov…” Stan looks at me pleadingly. “Please, think about what you’re doing.”
“You’ve been really nice to me, Stan,” I tell him. “Please don’t make me blow your head off.”
I point my gun at Doctor Bimbo. “You’ll come with us and get us to the garage.” I look at Igor. “You—where can I find something to tie you fuckers up with?”
“Behind the reception desk, there are cable ties.” Igor points. “Do you want me to get them?”
“Because I was born yesterday!” I look at Stacy. “Go find them.”
Stacy does as she’s told and comes back with cable ties and an automatic weapon. “Seems Igor here was trying to find some heat to pack.”
I see something spark in Stacy’s eyes. She’s fucking enjoying this.
“Give me the weapons,” I order Stacy. “You’re going to tie them up.”
She nods and walks to me. She places the strap of the automatic weapon around my neck and hands me the other handgun. Now I am standing with two guns pointed at Igor, Marco, and Stan.
“What do you want me to do?” Stacy looks to me for direction.
“Sit on the floor,” I order Igor, and he glares at me. “Look, little girl,” his eyes darken with anger, “I’ve had enough of your games now.” He starts to come for me.
“Igor!” Doctor Bimbo shouts. “Stand down.”
But the big man lunges for me, and I shoot him in the leg. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Fuck!” I spit. I know the shot has now cut our time down. “You fucking prick. Now I have to change my plans because of you.”
I walk up to Igor, put the handguns in my waistband, take the automatic weapon from around my body, and use the butt to knock him out. I turn to Stan. “I’m sorry, big guy.” I knock him out as well and turn to Stacy. “We have to go now.”
“No!” Stacy shakes her head. “I’m not leaving without Lev.”
“Stacy, he’d want us to,” I tell her, my heart pounding. “Look, we’re about to be stormed by twenty-odd guards. We need to head to the garage.”
“I…” Stacy’s head turns toward the hallway. “But…”
“They won’t hurt him,” I try to assure her and glare at my father. “Or I’ll make sure Konstantin makes his death slow and painful.” I nod toward Marco.
“Tick-tock!” Doctor Bimbo taunts us once again.
“Shut up, you fucking whore bitch!” Stacy yells at her.
“Stacy!” I start pushing Doctor Bimbo toward the living room. “You’ll tell the guards you have to get us out of here.”
She shrugs. “It’s not my head that’s going to get blown off.”
Stacy gives one more look down the hall before spinning and running after me. We walk quickly down the passage that passes the doctor’s room I was in earlier. We get into the gym. I see the garage door beyond that.
“There are two guards in the garage,” Doctor Bimbo says and looks at the weapon in my hands. “I hope you’re serious about using that thing because they will shoot you.”
“Don’t worry about me.” I try to keep the panic from my voice. Shit, I’m turning into a fucking vigilante.
Before we step into the garage, I swing the weapon behind my back so all you see is the strap and take the two handguns, hiding them behind my back. “Move.”
As we enter the garage, the two guards are chatting. I’m surprised to hear the British accents. Their weapons are holstered, telling me they weren’t expecting any trouble, and I frown. At the same time, Igor and Stan may have been new recruits to my father’s small private army. I don’t think my father would hire British men who looked more like FBI than Italian mob types—he’s not fond of the British either.
