Page 172 of Twilight Sins

“My death isn’t enough. He doesn’t want my life. He wants me to suffer.”

Luna. Mariya. My heart clenches.

Love is loss. It’s a weakness. It’s a vulnerability.

Akim knows that and he’s going after the people I love.

I never even told her.

Nikandr hops into the driver’s seat and starts the car just as I make it to the passenger side. My door is still hanging open when he peels away from the curb and tears down the street.

“How did you figure it out?” Nik asks. “Did you see something or?—”

“I just know.”

“How?” he presses. “We’re supposed to confirm this shit. That’s what you told me. What if he’s just late and we gave up the opportunity to take him out?”

“I know,” I growl. “Drive the fucking car. Get there now.”

I kept my phone in the car so I wouldn’t be distracted, but when I reach for it now, there are three missed calls from Mariya and a voicemail.

I call her back, but there’s no answer. I call Oleg, but same thing. Endless ringing.

“Where are they?” I grit out.

I fire off a text to Oleg. Akim Gustev is coming for you.

I copy the same message to Mariya with one change. Hide until we get there.

It might already be too late.

“Akim could have been at the mansion minutes after we left. With the thirty-minute drive to the club and the thirty minutes we stood outside… We gave him an entire fucking hour, Nik.”

“Mariya is smart,” Nik says, his voice shaky. “She’ll know what to do.”

“But Luna—” I can’t even say her name. Can’t even think it.

She’s pregnant.

If Akim figures out she’s carrying my child, he won’t just kill her; he’ll destroy her.

My hand is shaking with the need to rip Akim Gustev’s still-beating heart out of his chest when I play the voicemail Mariya left. Her voice rings through the car like she’s sitting in the backseat.

“I don’t need your voicemail, Yakov. I need you! Akim Gustev isn’t at The Rouge Lounge like he said. He’s here. At our house. It was a trap!”

Without a word, Nik slams on the gas.

70

LUNA

“We can’t stay here.” Mariya grabs Yakov’s laptop and my hand, tugging me towards the door.

I’m not resisting, but it also feels like my legs aren’t working. Yakov told me his world was dangerous—he told me I was in danger—but I didn’t understand it until those first shots rang out.

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs.” Mariya pokes her head through the door, looking around to make sure there’s no one in the hallway.

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