by Rina Kent
While Sergei was completely against handing over territories, he said he’d turn a blind eye if I took his men and came here.
I had to beg Vlad to help, and it wasn’t easy since he doesn’t like Kyle. The growly mountain of a man only softened when I mentioned the baby and that I don’t want him to grow up fatherless.
Damien agreed to help because, in his words, “It should be fun.”
I asked Kirill for his intel help because he has the best spies. He was the hardest to crack, and only agreed when I gave him an oath in front of Sasha that no one except for the three of us will know of her true gender. Well, Kyle already knows somehow, but I’m not the one who told him.
Igor sent men, too, but Adrian has been MIA today. Even his closest guards couldn’t be reached. Something is wrong, and Vlad thinks it has to do with Adrian’s wife, Lia.
If—no, after I save Kyle, I’ll have to check on her and see if everything is fine.
Mikhail insisted on joining, even though no one invited him. It surprised the shit out of me when he showed up with his best guards. Instead of arguing, I left my disagreements with him aside. Those don’t matter right now.
Saving Kyle does.
Coming here with all these men with me didn’t calm my nerves. Not really, especially since Julian couldn’t get ahold of his guy for the last half hour.
Shooting our way inside the closed Irish club wasn’t too difficult. The guards were taken by surprise by our large numbers. Damien killed everyone in his path like a bull out to destroy the world.
Julian and Vlad accompany me as I take the stairs two at a time. I dressed for the occasion, putting on leggings and a T-shirt, then completing the outfit with running shoes.
A wave of adrenaline has been holding me prisoner ever since I decided I’d save Kyle even if it was the last thing I do. I feel like I can kill anyone in my path if I have to. I don’t care if I’m turning into a monster; they shouldn’t have messed with my light.
Because he is. Even with his darkness, he’s the light I’ve held on to ever since Dedushka’s death.
By the time we reach Rolan’s office, most of his guards are either dead or injured. There will probably be backup soon, but hopefully, we’ll be out of here before that happens.
When we barge inside, Rolan is holding a gun in his hand as if he’s been waiting for us all along. Vlad and Julian step in front of me, to protect me, I guess, but I don’t hide behind them.
I raise my own gun and approach Rolan so we’re standing toe to toe. When I speak, my voice is hard, non-negotiable, just like Dedushka’s when he issued orders. “Where is he?”
He smiles, his upper lip thinning with the movement. “Probably dying. He has my most ruthless lads with him.”
I try not to think much about that possibility—the one where Kyle’s dying—and repeat, “Where. Is. He? If you don’t tell me, I’ll blow your brains out.”
“That will cause a diplomatic problem, Russian princess. Didn’t your grandpa teach you not to shoot leaders no matter what?”
“My grandpa would’ve shot you in the face if he were alive. If you don’t tell me where he is right now, I’m going to kill you.”
“Then how will you find him? He’s not even here.”
Rolan must be bluffing. He couldn’t have moved him away from the club this fast. If anyone had left the building, Kirill and Sasha would’ve told me.
The sound of footsteps can be heard from behind me and my attention falters. It’s only a fraction of a second, but Rolan uses it and points the gun at my head. “Drop your weapon.”
My breathing shortens as I comply.
He motions at both Vlad and Julian. “Ye too, unless ye’re in the mood for her funeral.”
Vlad curses under his breath as he and Julian slowly lower their guns to the ground.
Think, Rai. What would Kyle do in this situation?
I slowly close my eyes, contemplating the best option to get rid of Rolan. It would’ve been easier if it was only me. Now, I have the baby to worry about, so I can’t make any rash decisions.
“Stupid little bitch thinks she’s all that,” Rolan hisses at my ear. “Did ye really believe that a wee thing like ye can kill me?”
I open my eyes slowly, and that’s when I see him. At first, I think it’s a trick of my imagination because of how much I’ve been thinking about him all day, but when Julian takes a bit more time to stand up after placing his weapon on the ground, I catch a glimpse of Kyle behind him.
He’s soaked in blood, his face, his shirt, and even his hair. Oh, God—has he been shot?
Rolan must notice him too because he says, “Ye—”
He’s interrupted as a loud shot rings through the air and his weight disappears from my back. I stare behind me to find him lying on his back with a bloody hole in his forehead. His tongue sticks out and his eyes stare at nowhere.
Strong hands grab me by the shoulders and I stare up at Kyle, incredulous.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that shot when he was so close to you.” He massages my ear, and that’s when I realize it’s buzzing. “But he saw me and was ready to shoot you so…”
He trails off when I palm his cheeks, wiping the blood with my thumb. “Are you shot? Wounded? Vlad, call Dr. Putin and have Ruslan pick him up—”
Kyle’s hand slides from my shoulder to my face. “The blood is not mine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” I touch him up the sides and down his chest, feeling him. “Are you not injured anywhere?”
“I’m good as new. Told you bullets can’t kill me.” He grins, motioning behind him at a red-bearded man who seems to be around the same age as Julian. “Ask Flame or Godfather.”
“I told you not to joke about that!” I hit him across the chest, forcing him to release me. “You’re not bulletproof, you idiot. And what’s with the whole suicide mission? Were you really going to take Rolan on your own?”
“I would’ve sniped him down just fine if not for that fucking kid. I’m going to kill him.”
“So now you’re blaming it on a kid?”
“Peter was the one who handed me over.”
“That good-for-nothing?”
“He’s not good for nothing, after all. He was the one who pushed you down the stairs, and I’m going to find him and push him into a grave.”
Oh. So Peter was the perpetrator. I knew his voice sounded familiar back then. I shake my head, not wanting to focus on that.
“Don’t change the subject,” I scold. “This is about how you went on this mission without telling anyone.”
“It’s what I do.”
“I can’t believe you. I really can’t believe you. You will never change, will you? You’ll just continue to do whatever you please and to hell with what everyone else thinks or feels.” My voice breaks at the end and I hate the vulnerability in it.
God damn him.
“Hey, Princess…” He tries to catch me by the arm, but I pull away and stride to the exit.
“Let’s go home, Vlad.”
The latter glares at Kyle as if he wants to kill him on my behalf, then follows after me.
“You’re leaving?” Vlad asks once it’s just the two of us.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I breathe harshly, then whisper, “Is he following?”
“No.”
“Really?” I snap.
Vlad grunts. “If you wanted him to follow you, then maybe you shouldn’t have, I don’t know, rejected him?”
“Screw him.”
If he doesn’t know how to take a hint, I’m not going to do his job for him.
But he will eventually follow.
Right?
32
Kyle
“Fuck!”
I kick Rolan’s lifeless body. Even the arsehole’s death doesn’t feel as victorious as I thought it would.
Rai disappeared down the hall with that fucker Vladimir. He’ll have even more of an opening to be
beside her now that I’m not there, which has been his purpose all along.
Motherfucker.
“She has you by the balls. I’m disappointed.” Flame leans against the doorframe and places a cigarette in his mouth, but instead of lighting it, he keeps flipping his lighter on and off. His Beware of Fire Hazard tattoo peeks out from underneath his sleeve with the movement.
“Shut the fuck up, Flame. He almost clipped my nails from my sniper hand, Godfather!”
“It didn’t happen.” Flame pauses flipping his lighter.
I narrow my eyes. “You wanted to do it.”
“But I didn’t. And stop moaning to Ghost like a little kid.”
“I’m going to—”
“Enough.” Godfather sighs, staring down at me. “Do you have the time to bicker with Flame right now? Shouldn’t you go after your wife?”
My throat bobs up and down with a swallow. “You saw how mad she got. Besides, I’ve already let her go.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, I have. Aren’t you the one who told me I’m dangerous to those I care about?”
“She didn’t seem to mind your craziness.”
I stare at him, unsure. “Really?”
“She was more worried about saving you, and did everything in her might to have as much manpower as possible. She was trembling when she found out you were taken by Rolan.”
That means…she cares, right?
Hope mounts and explodes in my chest with a force that leaves me breathless for a second. She would probably kick me in the balls if I chased her, though. But would it be worth it? Fuck yes.
Godfather slaps me upside the head, and I groan. “Ow. What was that for?”
“You’re married, already. Stop making people worry about you.”
“You…” I scratch the back of my head. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve changed.”
Flame scoffs from the background. “Changed, my arse.”
“Piss off, Flame. Your job here is done.”
“I think I’ll stick around for some time. Take me with you to the Russians. Heard there’s much more action there.”
“Over my dead body.”
“That won’t be a problem, punk.” He points his lighter at me, then flips it. “I made you.”
“Made me?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Fuck you.” I sigh, then focus back on Godfather. “Anyway, I’m a grown-up.”
“Then act like it.” He flicks my forehead. “And come visit. Elle asks about you.”
“She does?” I whisper my bemusement. “After everything that’s happened?”
“Not everyone is hardened like us, Kyle. She doesn’t hold a grudge against you—for reasons unknown.”
“The little punk always made people forgive him fast,” Flame says.
“It’s because of the charming face you’ll never have, Flame. Stop being jealous.” My mother said I get it from my father, but, apparently, that’s not Niall and I’m not a Fitzpatrick.
If my father is Russian and has been around long enough to have me, then he should be in his late fifties or early sixties…
The sound of footsteps cut into my thoughts as guards barge inside. Flame straightens.
“They’re Russians,” I say, squinting to recognize whose men they are. The showoff Mikhail. He always has his guards storm in before his majesty comes along.
No idea why he came here in the first place. Wait a fucking second…
I already called him and gave him evidence that ye’re his boy, so if he does want ye, he’ll show up.
Rolan’s words roll in my head with crystal clarity.
My mouth hangs open as Mikhail rushes inside, holding a gun. He’s old, around his late fifties or early sixties, and yet, he’s still in shape, aside from the panting.
“Where is he…?” He trails off when his eyes meet mine.
I see it then, the thing I was too blind to see over the years—the resemblance. Though his hair is sprinkled with white strands, it’s the same color as mine. His angular jaw and the shape of his eyes…they’re the exact fucking same as mine.
How the hell have I not noticed that before? Well, I never had a reason to believe Niall wasn’t my biological father, but still.
Mikhail studies Rolan’s body, and once he makes sure he’s dead, he approaches me slowly, expression softening. His guards remain behind, their guns tucked in front of them.
“You okay?” he asks, his accent thicker than usual.
“Why would you care?” I draw in a breath, then release it through my nose. I have no time for this. I should bribe Ruslan and Katia to give me tips on how to approach Rai without endangering my balls.
“I didn’t know.” He sheathes his gun under his jacket.
“You didn’t know about what?”
“You. Amy didn’t tell me.”
I throw my hands up dismissively. “Well, surprise.”
He watches me for a second too long without saying anything, as if he’s seeing me for the first time.
Is this awkward, or what?
“You were there that night,” I say. “The night she died.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you fucking save her? You were supposed to—that’s why she called you.”
“We were in the middle of an attack, and by the time I got there, she and Niall were dead. There was no trace of you, so I thought you died, too.”
“I did, in a way.”
“I know. That’s why—”
“Save it.”
“But—”
“This changes nothing, old man. The only father figure I have ever had is right here.” I point at Godfather. “He’s the one who taught me how to survive, even if it meant killing to do that.”
I expect Mikhail to show hostility, because he has that petty personality and tends to act up whenever things don’t go his way, but he stares at Godfather and says, “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. He grew up into a reckless bastard.”
“Hey!”
Godfather wraps an arm around my shoulders. “When he was young, he was weak and always felt sick. The other kids ganged up on him.”
Mikhail stares at me with an expression I’m seeing on his face for the first time.
Guilt.
Isn’t that fucking ironic?
“Too much information, Godfather,” I mutter.
He ignores me and continues speaking to Mikhail. “But even though they were way older than him, he kicked, clawed, and scratched them. Who knew that the little boy would grow up to be one of the best we have?”
I clear my throat at the note of pride in his voice. I never thought Godfather would ever speak about me like that after all the shit that went down ten years ago.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Mikhail’s voice holds a genuinely regretful note. “If I knew, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Save your breath, old man. I don’t give two fucks about you or what you could’ve done.”
“I do.” He pauses. “I know we didn’t start off on the right foot, but I’m asking for a chance.”
“A chance for what?”
“To be your father.”
I scoff. “Don’t you have two sons already? Why would you want to add another?”
“Because you’re my eldest. My heir.”
“Like hell, I am. In case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in the Bratva.”
“But you have an interest in Rai, yes?”
“Bringing her into this discussion won’t help you. In fact, it takes away brownie points.”
“If you’re strong enough, you can help her.”
“I thought you hated her.”
“I did, but only because she kept ruining my business. If you give me a chance, I will stop antagonizing her.”
“You’ll stop antagonizing her even if I don’t give you a chance.” I tower over him. “Mess with her and you’re messing with me.” I stroll past him. “
I’m off, Godfather. I’ll be in touch.”
“Does this mean you agree?” Mikhail calls after me.
“Depends on your behavior,” I shoot back without turning around.
His guards step aside to make way for me, and I can sense how annoying this treatment will get in the long run.
Oh well, we’ll wait and see.
Right now, it’s time I get my wife back.
33
Rai
He didn’t follow.
He really didn’t follow.
I stand on the balcony for several minutes in case he shows up, but there’s no trace of him.
None at all. No call. No text.
I stare at the letter he left me that I tucked in my bag. Is that the last I’ll see of him? Really?
I ought to kick his ass for everything he made me go through. I gave him all the reasons to come back and at least talk to me. I went to him. I didn’t remove the wedding ring. I didn’t tell him he was an idiot for thinking that leaving is the solution.
I did it all, but he didn’t even follow.
Fuck him.
I’m about to go take a shower when commotion comes from outside my room.
My heartbeat skyrockets and I nearly trip over my feet as I swing the door open.
It’s not Kyle’s face that greets me. Instead, it’s Ruslan and Katia arguing with Lia, telling her she can’t go inside.
“What’s going on?” I try to hide the disappointment in my tone.
“You said not to disturb you, miss,” Ruslan says, “but Mrs. Volkov insists on seeing you.”
“It’s okay.” I smile at them, then her. “Come in, Lia.”
She follows behind me and closes the door. Her face is pale, lips dry. Her dress’s buttons are done up wrong, as if she was in a hurry to put clothes on.
“Sit down.” I motion at the lounge area.
She shakes her head frantically, catching her breath.
“Is everything okay, Lia?” Maybe there is a reason behind her husband’s absence. “Is Adrian okay?”
“Of course he is—when has he not been?” she snaps, but it’s not entirely in anger. There’s something else underneath, but I can’t put my finger on it. Hatred? A grudge?
