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Unable to see much through the tinted windows, I flinch when a bright light fills my vision. The blur of swiftly moving figures follows, and I wonder whose hands I will fall into when the bullets run out.
A loud thump bounces off the roof of the SUV as the sounds of gunfire fill my ears. The door is yanked open from the outside, and I see a man dressed in black gaze at me with cold light eyes. A gun that looks like it could kill an elephant is pointed at me, making my heart stop.
Is this the moment my mother most feared? Maybe a part of me knew it would always end this way.
Am I paying for a sin someone in my family committed, or is it simply greed?
A gunshot pierces my ears and is painfully loud. Flinching, I wait for pain to bloom but see the gunman’s head explode in a red mist instead. He topples sideways and lands on the pavement.
I glance up and see Yuri’s gun smoking. He jumps over me and hauls me out of the car.
“Sit here. Don’t move.” He pushes me down next to the front tire. “Wait for me to come back and get you.”
I nod and stare into his dark eyes. “Don’t die.”
The sound of gunshots fills the air, along with men shouting nearby.
“Not a chance, wife. We have a lot of living to do.” He kisses me quickly. “I’m going to get rid of a few fuckers. Stay put.”
I nod again and watch him disappear around the bumper of the car. Are these people here to snatch me, or is this Bratva business? I close my eyes briefly and know I will never forgive myself if anything happens to my husband.
The gunfire erupts around me, and I open my eyes and see the gunman sprawled next to me. A pool of blood surrounds him, and I feel my stomach heave up. Do I say a prayer?
Don’t kid yourself. He was going to put a bullet in your head.
I lean over and grab the gun. The weight feels heavy in my lap. I study the piece of complicated black metal and know that I don’t have a prayer of using it correctly.
I curl more tightly into myself and mentally practice stitches. Matching my breathing to what my hands are doing in my mind, I hope it keeps me from freaking out more than I already am.
Coming out of my trance minutes later, I notice it’s silent. There isn’t any gunfire or men’s screams echoing across the pavement.
I lean forward and blink twice when my husband reappears like a vision. His stride is confident and smooth. As though he’s walking through a club. A massive figure in a suit, a gun in each hand.
His eyes never leave mine, and I notice a swirl of black smoke following him. Any actor in Hollywood would be jealous. Yuri Novikov is the real thing.
“All is well.” He shoves one gun into the holster near his chest and the other into the back of his waist. Kneeling down, he slides the gun away from my cramped fingers and tosses it aside. “Ready to go?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up. “We’ll take the other car. This one’s still smoking.”
I look over his shoulder and see bodies littering the pavement while sirens wail in the distance. He sets me in the passenger seat, and I see Vlad and Fedor speaking into their phones just to the left of us. How do they all look so calm? Like World War Three didn’t just happen.
Yuri opens the driver’s door just as the sound of gunfire erupts again. I push myself across the console and see quiet rage mar his handsome face as he collapses against the ground.
“Hell no.” I scramble out as quickly and pull him into my arms as Vlad skids to a stop at his side. “Get help. My husband can’t die.”
The bloom of red covering his shirt makes my heart sputter as I pull his handkerchief out of his pocket and press it against his chest. Our entwined initials are quickly soaked in blood, and I silently vow to follow him wherever he may go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Yuri
My brother is rarely somber, so when he is, I know shit is about to go down or already has. “How bad is it?”
“You’re alive, so not bad at all.”
My mouth twists as I look around the room, resembling something from a Bourne movie. It’s been a minute since I’ve woken up in the family facility, and I don’t like it any better.
The syndicate handles medical emergencies privately, and being in the middle of a black space surrounded by plastic curtains never gets easier.
