Fox joins me by the door. We don’t say a word as we enter the front hall.
It’s quiet. Almost dead. It’s nothing at all like the constantly moving household I left just a few hours before.
I keep my eyes and ears open, determined not to be caught off-guard by whatever the hell might be happening here. We pause at every corner, sneaking a peek before moving on through the dark corridors.
My memory guides me through the shadowed wings. Even in darkness the furnishings of this place seem fit for a goddamn bonfire.
We round the corner toward Gio’s study and a petite force collides with me.
Sofia.
She screams in my arms and shoves me back, her limbs flailing wildly in a blind panic to get away from me. I open my mouth to speak, but my throat tightens when I see the blood.
She’s covered with it from her head to her shoes. It drips from her face and her hands. The scent of it stings my nose.
“Sofia!” I grab her wrists to stop her thrashing. “Sofia, stop! It’s me! It’s me!”
She slows down, her wide eyes squinting in the dark. “Luka…”
I pull her closer, cupping her face to make sure she sees me. “Yes, it’s me.”
Her knees give out from under her, and I wrap my arms around her to hold her up. “Luka…” She reaches for my face. “You’re alive?”
“I’m here. I’m alive.”
“You came back...”
I shake my head. “I never left you, Sofia.”
She collapses against my chest, squeezing my jacket in her weak grasp. I look over at Fox as she shakes like a lost animal in my arms. His shock is obvious, even through his mask. I glance at my hands, staring at my red-coated fingers.
What the hell happened here?
Someone stumbles out into the hallway down the corridor and he limps in our direction.
Gio.
He sees my face and he stops cold.
I look him up and down, seeing splotches of blood staining his clothes. Sofia squeezes me even tighter at the very sight of him.
“He knows,” she whispers at me. “He knows everything.”
Gio spins around to take off in the other direction. I give Fox a quick nod.
Fox raises his rifle and takes aim at Gio’s head.
“Wait!” Sofia shouts and grabs Fox’s arm. “Don’t shoot him.”
I look down at her swollen eyes and my heart clenches. She should want this bastard dead more than anybody. “Sofia, he deserves this.”
“He took Lucian,” she says. “I don’t know where, but he does.”
Fox adjusts his aim and fires.
The bullet clips Gio’s right calf, sending him spinning down to the carpet before he reaches the far corner. He screams and struggles to pull himself up but the pain sends him back down to the floor.
I follow him with a wide stride, taking Sofia’s hand in mine, driven by a pure, aching vengeance.
Gio claws at the floor to distance himself from me but I’m on him in seconds, digging my heel into his leg and he cries out in agony.
“Where is he?” I hiss, letting up on his leg to make him stop squealing.
He smirks at me. “My son is safe.”
My rage boils, flashing white light in my eyes.
My son. He’s my fucking son.
“Where?!” I ask again, leaning into his wound.
Gio grunts with frustration. “What was it like, eh?” he spits through his teeth. “Taking another man’s wife, right under his nose? In his own fucking house?”
“Not bad, honestly.”
“Do you have no honor, Lutrova?”
“It comes and goes.” I bend down, blissfully enjoying the pain in his eyes. “And for the record, she wasn’t even your wife yet. She came to me because she couldn’t stand the idea of you getting to her first. And come, she did.”
Sofia squeezes my hand. “Luka…”
Gio’s eyes shift toward hers. “I should have known when my virgin bride didn’t bleed for me.”
“She bleeds for no one,” I say. “Not anymore.”
He laughs. “You think you’re just going to walk out of here with her? Look where you are. You’re dead where you stand.”
“Your guards are gone, Gio. All of them — even that pathetic assassin you sent after me. You want to kill me? You’re going to have to try a little harder than this.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that.”
“Don’t bother,” I say. “You won’t see the next sunrise.”
“Your bastard won’t either.” He chuckles and licks the sweat off his lips. “Go ahead. Kill me. I dare you.”
I lean all my weight onto his leg and he growls in pain.
“Luka.”
I look over my shoulder at Fox and he beckons me down the hall.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I growl at Gio. “We’re not done yet.”
He spits at my feet as I push off him. I hold Sofia’s hand a little tighter as we move down the hall toward Fox. I may never let go of her ever again after this.
“We’ve got company,” Fox says.
“Who?”
“Three cars just parked outside. Someone must have called for back-up.”
“How many men?”
“A dozen? Maybe more, but I’m low on ammo.”
“How low?”
“Too low.”
“Then, I hope you’re good with a knife.”
He shrugs. “Better than most.”
Definitely cocky.
I pause, taking a quick breath to try and think a little clearer. Gio has my son. There’s no way I’m leaving here without knowing where, but we’re officially out of time.
Sofia stares up at me, shaking with confusion and fear behind a veil of blood on her face. I don’t see a wound anywhere.
And then, I realize...
“Where’s Rosalie?” I ask her.
Her eyes swell and she looks behind me at Gio’s study. I move toward it. She drags her feet, dropping my hand completely by the doorway to avoid going inside.
The smell of blood and sweat reaches my nose before I even see her on the floor.
But mostly blood.
Gio laughs. He fucking laughs.
“That one is on you, by the way,” he says, propping himself up onto his elbows. “If you had kept your hands off my wife, then she never would have seen a thing and she’d still be breathing right now—”
“Shut up,” I seethe. He chuckles even louder to himself. “No, Gio, this is on you. Just like Hans Petrovin is on you.”
He smirks. “Prove it.”
“I’m working on it.”
Fox rushes toward us from the front of the house. “We need to move now, Luka.”
I keep my eyes on Gio. “Where is Lucian?”
He shrugs and anger spikes in me.
I lunge at him, ready to pull him off the floor and beat him to death, but Sofia grabs my arm.
“Luka—!”
She pulls me and I jump back to dodge the gunfire blazing from down the hall.
We retreat together into the study to avoid it and Fox leaps in behind us. He kneels by the doorway and peeks out with his rifle, firing off the last of his rounds before throwing the strap over his shoulder and reaching for a switchblade in his belt.
I look out into the hall again and grit my teeth in anger.
Gio is gone.
“How many?” I ask Fox.
He pokes his head out for only half a second, dodging a bullet that pierces the doorway instead. “About seven,” he says.
Sofia gasps beside me, her ears tuning to the sound before it even reaches mine.
A crying child.
“Lucian—!” She lunges for the windows and looks outside into the back garden. “Luka, it’s him.”
I push the curtains aside and watch as Gio limps into the trees with my son thrown over his shoulder.
“Get back,” I tell Sofia, guiding her away from the windows as I grab the nearest chair.
>
Fox flicks his switchblade open and yanks an eager gunman from just outside the doorway. Sofia screams, jumping away as Fox flips him onto his back and plunges the knife into his chest to put him down.
I throw the chair at the window and it shatters.
“Sofia, come on!” I grab her hand as Fox pulls the rifle from the man’s dead fingers.
We climb outside and Fox kneels beside the window to fire a long stream of bullets at the rest of them to give us enough time to run. Sofia bolts ahead of me, following Lucian’s piercing cries into the woods over the pop of gunfire behind us.
She slips from my fingers, weaving in and around trees in the dark without even needing a map, just like that day fifteen years ago.
This time, I’ll seek out Gio as he hides from me.
When I find him, I’ll kill him.
“Lucian!” Sofia cries out his name, running on pure adrenaline and motherly instinct as I race behind her, trying to keep up.
I lose her in the dark as Lucian’s piercing cry disappears.
“Sofia!”
My eyes adjust to the darkness. I make out the garden shed, nestled between two large trees near the back wall. I’m struck with a vivid hesitation. The first time I saw this place, we met. The last time I saw this place, we conceived our son.
Terror grips my chest as I wonder how my life will change this time.
“Sofia…”
I push the door open. I feel a presence in the room, just like before. It’s too dark, so I search for the string hanging down somewhere in the center.
I flick the light on and there she is, kneeling on the floor with Lucian in her arms.
He’s not crying anymore, but she is. She cradles him close, whispering in his ear as he gazes up at me with those silver eyes.
“Where’s Gio?” I ask.
Sofia shakes her head. “He dropped him and ran.”
Shouting voices echo behind us, accompanied by feet racing toward us, and my heart stands still.
It was the ultimate trap. Use Lucian as bait to lure us out here with nowhere to go but up against a fucking wall.
Beep beep beep.
My ears twitch and I step back outside to find Fox kneeling by the wall, laying something on the ground in front of it.
He rushes over to me and ducks behind the shed.
“You might want to get down…” he says.
He reaches into his vest and pulls out a small, black device. It fits snug in his palm and he lays his thumb against a smooth, round button at its tip.
A detonator.
I fall to my knees beside Sofia and Lucian to shield them as Fox pushes the button.
The bomb explodes, shaking the earth and the shed nearly topples around us. Sofia screams, completely caught off-guard by it. I hold her even tighter as Lucian cries in her arms.
Fox stands and runs to the hole to jump through it first. I pull Sofia up and we follow closely behind him, squinting through the dust and debris as it settles to the earth.
Then, she stops.
“Sofia, come on…” I extend my hand to her, eager to get her and Lucian as far away from this place as possible.
Her gaze falls to my fingers and for a moment, she smiles.
She takes my hand and we run together, leaving the confused shouts of Gio’s men far behind us.
Chapter 18
Sofia
I’ve never been on a plane before.
Twenty years on this earth and I’ve never had both feet off the ground at the same time. It’s scarier than I thought it’d be, especially in a plane this small. Every gust of wind, every shift in pressure. I feel it all with closed eyes, counting the moments until it’s all over. When we finally land, I won’t be in Italy anymore.
I’ll be in Russia.
I sit in my seat with a white-knuckle grip on the armrests. Lucian lays beside me, curled up in Luka’s jacket, sleeping as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. If only I could be as calm as he is. If only I could forget about all of this and grow up without any memory of tonight or where I came from.
“Sofia?”
Luka appears beside me in the thin aisle. He extends his hand to me, but I hesitate to move.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, careful not to wake Lucian.
I release the armrest and my fingers ache from stiffness. My red skin feels sticky and cold. I can’t stand to look at it, but Luka shows no fear as he takes my hand. Warmth trembles my fingers as he guides me from my seat and leads me toward the back of the plane.
Yuri turns away, forcing his eyes down at the very sight of me. I’m not sure if he’s angry or disgusted or scared or all of the above. If I could feel anything at all right now, I’m sure I wouldn’t fare any better.
My gaze falls on the American. He looks at me without turning away. I study his handsome face. Short, brown hair and big, brown eyes. Soft features, nothing like the sharp Russian ones on the others. He gives me a respectful nod and I blink at the white scar across his cheek.
Luka pushes open the restroom door and motions me inside. I walk into the cramped, airless space as he grabs several hand towels from a cupboard outside. He follows me in and closes the door behind us.
“Sit down,” he tells me.
I do as he says as he wets a towel with water from the tiny sink.
“Who is that man out there?” I ask.
Luka kneels in front of me with the damp towel and takes my hand. “His name is Fox,” he answers, wiping the blood off my wrist.
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“No.”
I watch him work. Each swipe of the towel removes a little more red from my pale skin.
“I wouldn’t get too attached to him, though,” he adds. “He won’t be around for long.”
“Where is he going?”
He glances up at me but doesn’t answer as he moves onto my other hand with a fresh towel. While I am sheltered, I understand silence very well. This kind can only mean one thing, but I’ve seen my fair share of death tonight.
“He helped you save us,” I say.
“There’s more to it than that.”
Of that, I have no doubt. I fall quiet and Luka finishes wiping the blood off my fingers. He looks up and studies my face.
“Hold still,” he says, moving the towel to my cheeks.
I lean into his touch as he cleans me up. I haven’t glanced into a mirror all night. I can only imagine the horror I must look like, but Luka’s eyes show nothing of it. Unlike Yuri, who seems ready to scream at the very sight of me.
Luka lays a red-covered towel into the sink and I cringe as he grabs a fresh one.
There was so much blood…
“You’re going to be okay, Sofia,” Luka whispers at me, his eyes fixed on mine. “You’re both safe now.”
He wipes the towel down my neck, taking his time with a gentle touch. Pink water stains the basin each time he wrings the towel out. I can’t pull my eyes away from it.
“He’ll come looking for me,” I say, my voice shaking.
Luka pauses. “Where we’re going, he’ll need an army to get to you. I won’t let that happen.”
“How long until we land?”
“A few hours.” He looks down. “We’ll find you some clothes when we do.”
I glance at my dress, stained through and ruined.
“Rosalie made this one…” I mutter without thinking. “She really liked sewing…”
“Sofia…” Luka cups my face with his hands as a rock grows in my throat. “Look at me.”
I close my eyes, squeezing them together to hold back the tears fighting to bleed through.
Everything shakes. Just one slip and I’ll fall to pieces, but I can’t do that right now. Lucian needs me to be strong. I don’t know how I can be, however, when I can’t even remember how to breathe.
Luka draws his thumb beneath my eye, banishing a tear as it slips out. “Look at me, lyubov’ moya,” he whisper
s.
He gazes at me with the same eyes as our son. The same eyes I fell in love with the day he was born.
Luka fills his lungs, breathing in the stale, almost nonexistent air, and he waits for me to do the same. I inhale a shaking breath and he blows his out through his lips.
“Just like that,” he says. “That’s how we stay alive.”
I nod and take another deep breath, feeling his calloused hands warm my cheeks.
“It’s not over until we can’t do that anymore. I won’t stop fighting for you until my last breath, Sofia. And I promise you… that I will make Gio Zappia suffer until his.”
The lump shrinks in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever trusted anybody or anything as much as I trust him in this moment.
Luka Lutrova. The Russian mobster. The father of my child.
Our savior.
Luka moves to stand. I reach out to stop him with a shaking hand. He pauses, his sharp eyes wandering my face, and I can’t help myself. I kiss him softly and he instantly pulls me in, cupping my cheeks to hold me there as our lips blend together.
I stand and he rises with me. His hands fall to my hips, drawing me closer to his wide frame.
A cry rings out, traveling over the rumbling engine and my motherly instincts kick in.
“Lucian…” I whisper, pulling my lips from Luka’s. “I should…”
Luka smiles, stealing one more quick kiss from me before taking a short step back and sliding the door open.
I step out, feeling the cold air on my clean face as I dart down the aisle to my seat. Lucian stands up and raises his arms at me, begging to be held.
“Shh,” I soothe into his ear. “I’m here, piccola luce.”
I take him into my arms and pace back and forth in the aisle. Thankfully, Lucian calms with each step I take, despite being surrounded by strangers. I look around, feeling several pairs of eyes on me. Yuri still can’t maintain eye contact with me for very long, but he glares hard at Lucian. Perhaps he just realized he’s a uncle.
Fox keeps a somber expression, seemingly unfazed by everything around him. Something tells me he’s been through far more uncomfortable situations than this.
I step toward him, balancing Lucian in my left arm, and pause above his shoulder. “Thank you,” I tell him. “Whoever you are.”
I extend my hand to him.
Killer Love Page 11
