Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Whipping around, I’m alert. Anger claws at my chest. First the bakery, now this. In my peripheral vision I note quick movement and a flash of metal. My instincts flare.
"Get down!" I snap, pulling her behind me as a figure emerges from the darkness. The first shot shatters the stillness of the night.
I shove her to the ground, shielding her with my own body as another shot rings out. Pain explodes across my shoulder, but I barely register it, adrenaline surging through my veins. I have to keep Anya safe.
Matvei’s huge, looming figure plows through the stillness. He pulls the trigger. Fire bursts from his weapon.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm hit," I say through gritted teeth. "Anya, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Her voice is panicked. “What happened?”
I draw my weapon and shoot. Fire erupts from my gun and from Matvei’s. The attackers scatter, retreating into the night.
I could chase them, but that would leave Anya vulnerable.
"Get them. Get the fuck—get them!" I bark, my voice sharp with fury. I nod at Matvei, but he’s a mountain of a man, built for power, not speed. He chases after them, firing as he runs, but the bastards are already disappearing. Gunshots echo, but it’s too late.
This was no random attack. It was calculated. Designed to disorient us.
Anya gasps. "Oh my god, Semyon!"
I look down to see blood spilling onto my white shirt, onto the ground, onto my hands. Motherfucker.
Anya reaches for me, and my blood smears across her fingers, thick and sticky.
"I'm fine," I growl, scanning the darkness again for any sign of movement. But the garden is silent now, a predator retreating.
"Shit." I shake my head. "Matvei was right. What the fuck was that?"
Clicking heels signal the arrival of my sisters. Yana is first, her gaze sharp and lethal, already assessing the situation.
“Who was it? Where’s Matvei?”
“The south exit.” I’ve got the whole damn place memorized. It’s always my way. I know the south exit leads to the parking garage, shielded only with tall hedges and a wrought iron fence.
Yana doesn’t hesitate but kicks off her heels and springs, her figure disappearing into the night. Fucking wish she had been here instead of Matvei since she’s twice as fast.
"Are you okay, Anya?" Zoya asks, calm and unruffled as always. She checks on Anya with a quick glance. I love that my sister looked after my wife first, knowing she’s a more vulnerable target.
"I'm fine, but Semyon—"
“He’s had worse," Zoya says after a quick assessment. But in the dark, I can’t tell if she’s only saying it to ease Anya’s fears. My vision swims.
Anya shakes her head. "He's bleeding."
Zoya remains composed. “We'll take care of him. The Romanovs will have medics.”
“I’m good,” I grind out through clenched teeth. I feel impotent, bested, and it fucking pisses me off. They could’ve hit Anya. Who the fuck was that? “Don’t worry about me.”
But I can’t ignore the way Anya looks at me, her eyes wide and glistening with fear. She’s trembling, and something tells me this is more than fear. Something deeper that reaches inside me, tightening like a fist around my chest.
My vision goes dark around the edges. Khristos. I’m losing blood.
“I’ll be back,” Zoya murmurs, retreating with her weapon drawn. “Anya, stay here with him.”
“Of course,” Anya says, shaking her head. “As if I’d go anywhere.” Her lips draw downward in a pout. I’d smile if it didn’t feel like my shoulder was going to implode.
“Who would just come here, shooting?” She shakes her head. She hovers, her hands near me as if she somehow wants to anchor me in place. “Oh, Semyon.” Our fingers lace together, sticky with blood.
“Someone with ties to the Irish.” The pieces are starting to fit together. I need meds so I can focus, so I can slide them all into place and call checkmate. “Matvei’s instincts were right. It was a fucking distraction. Rafail and Rodion aren’t here, so I can fucking guarantee they were at the far end of the estate before they pulled their moves.”
What I don’t tell her is they would likely know my instinct would be to protect Anya, and Matvei would be too slow for a chase. This was calculated.
Anya frowns. “They came close enough to shoot. I saw something on one of their wrists when he turned to go, something that reminded me of the video with Eli.”
Of course. The faction’s symbol. The Irish syndicate hasn’t been quiet about what they want. Tonight, they finally made a move.
“I can’t believe no one’s looking,” Anya whispers. “You’re bleeding out on their patio, Semyon. Shots rang out, and no one gives a damn. What the hell?” She shakes her head, her voice wobbly. “How is this normal?”
I don’t know what I can tell her to reassure her. I’m doing my best to stay conscious.