Page 94 of Silver Sinner

"You cunt!" Pavel screams. "You murdered him! I will kill you! I will kill all of you!" As he yells, he jerks his gun down toward Maddie, who screams in terror and reaches out for Layla.

"I will kill⁠—"

I open fire at the exact same moment Adrian does.

The sniper bullet explodes into the back of Pavel's skull and rips out through his face, narrowly missing me and thudding into the organ behind us. My bullets rip into his arm and elbow to kill off any chance of him pulling that trigger. Pavel sags backward and collapses down onto the pew, a bloodied, dead mess.

Maddie screams louder and rushes forward in a jerk that frees her hair from the dead man, while floods of tears pour down her face. Layla tears herself from my grip to reach her daughter. I let her now that the threat has passed, and I'm right there with her as she collapses to her knees and gathers her sobbing daughter into her arms.

"Oh my God," Layla weeps. "Oh my God." She repeats it over and over while I drape myself over the two of them to protect them from the rest of the firefight.

Around me, the entire church is a bloodbath. Pavel's body spreads out next to the bullet-riddled body of an old woman with an obnoxiously large hat. Every pew is filled with dead bodies, scattered guns, and blood. My men move through like a wave, helping up our own who have taken hits, and delivering killing shots to anyone trying to crawl away. By the end, the only survivor is the priest who remains near the podium with blood soaking his robes and cradling his arm from a bullet.

Layla and Maddie continue to sob in my arms and I clutch them as close as I can. Tears spring into my own eyes and they remain until Moses squeezes my shoulder, a sign that everything is under control. Only then do they fall with a rush of utter relief.

"Layla," I murmur as I lean up. She's still trembling like she's about to shake apart, and Maddie continues to weep against her chest. "I'm sorry, Layla. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't faster. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm here now, for whatever you need. I'm sorry, I'm…"

All the air fades from me as she lifts her head and gazes at me through red eyes and clumps of mascara. Despite it all, she's as beautiful as I remember and the hollow pit in my gut finally vanishes for the first time in weeks.

"No," Layla croaks. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for dragging you into all of this, b-but thank you. Thank you for saving us. Thank you." She collapses against me, wrestling between sobs and thanks that are completely unnecessary.

My arms wind around them both and yet my heart stops when Maddie's fist ends up clutched in my waistcoat, burying herself between me and her mom. Layla tries to take a breath but it catches in her throat, so I lift my hand to her cheek.

"You don't need to thank me," I whisper. "I meant it when I said I would take care of you. I meant it then and I mean it now, because I love you, Layla. I love you and that's all that matters." My lips press to her hairline, and her hand rises, clasping onto my wrist like a lifeline.

"Pierce," she croaks and hiccups. "Get me out of this dress. Please."

37

LAYLA

Smoke dots the New York City skyline, where Pierce's men have swarmed like locusts in a surge of violence ignited by his attack at the church. They're hunting down every last remaining Barsukov with intent, burning businesses to the ground. This night, my wedding night, will be the last night the name Barsukov holds any meaning in this city.

Pierce isn't reckless, of course. Every place that gets burned to the ground is a controlled burn to ensure no other places suffer and, from my understanding of the phone call I overheard, he's offering safety to any women, children or workers forced to serve under the Barsukov name. And he's doing all of this for me.

I stand in his penthouse wrapped up in one of his thick sweaters and a pair of cotton jogging pants, staring out over the carnage. It doesn't feel real to be standing here on familiar ground with Maddie fast asleep on the couch that rests parallel to the balcony doors. Maybe I died at that altar. Maybe the horror of having to be married to Trik has given me a psychotic break and I've created this illusion to save myself the pain.

Pierce, breaking into the church like a knight in shining armor and rushing to me like he couldn't bear for us to be apart for a second longer. It had to be a dream. This can't be my reality.

A harsh, distant siren rising up from the city makes me flinch with just enough sharpness to remind me that this is indeed real. As real as Pierce's arms around me and the blood soaking my skin from Trik drowning in his own. He died. His father, Pavel, died with Maddie screaming in his arms. The entire church was massacred without a second thought and with it, my horrible future went up in smoke.

Now, there's nothing but a blank page.

What should I do?

Where do I go from here?

My arms come tight around my body and I clutch at the soft fabric covering my elbows, hugging myself as hard as I imagine Pierce would if he were standing here with me. He's not far. Last time I saw him, he was in his office respecting my desire to be alone, to think. Part of me hates that he's so respectful, because I want him here with me, while the other part of me is grateful for the space.

I have no idea what to do.

I don't know what's best for me or Maddie.

The only thing I do know is that now the world I ran from for so long knows that my daughter is the Barsukov heir, and just because Pierce has wiped them out and absorbed every business, it doesn't mean she's safe. Pierce only has control of New York. A threat will always linger overseas.

A deep, aching sigh rises from my gut and I turn back inside, approaching the couch where Maddie sleeps. I can't decide now. It's too soon. My head is as twisted as the anxiety in my guts as I sit next to her and gently thread my fingers through her hair. Maddie sighs deeply and adjusts toward me, but she doesn't wake.

Amongst the uncertainty, one thing remains true. Keeping her safe.