Page 83 of Forced Bratva Bride

Every muscle in my body is tense. But in Stefano’s eyes I see something I recognize. The same thing I saw in myself when I had to play my father’s own game against him.

“No, it was your uncle who started all of this. I will never forget that.”

“Angelo, do you want me to kill him? I will shoot him right now,” Stefano says, his gun leveled at Maxim’s head.

“You fucking little asshole of a boy. You never had any back bone to you. Do you think I am going to trust you to have any now? You useless, spineless piece of shit.”

While Angelo is screaming profanity at Stefano, Maxim’s eyes catch mine.

Close your eyes.

His lips move silently.

Then a gunshot screams past my ear, and my entire body jumps in fright. I feel my father’s grip fall loose from my neck, and I run. My father is screaming in agony, and when I glance back, I see that the bullet only skimmed his arm. He is lifting his gun towards Maxim.

“No!” I scream in terror.

Stefano spins his body toward my father and fires a shot.

But I am running, something punches into me and my body jolts.

“Fuck!” I hear someone shouting as I collapse to the ground.

I roll over, knowing that I can’t lose control of myself, I have to get up, keeping fighting. Back on your feet, Chiara.

I glance at my father, who is taking aim at Stefano, his pitch-black gaze locked onto my stepbrother.

“Fucking asshole. You tried to fucking kill me,” he screams.

I feel warmth spread across my shoulder, and glance down at my body. I am covered in blood. This is the moment when I realize I have been shot. And this is the moment when the pain kicks in properly.

I bite down and squeeze my eyes shut. My father is still arguing with my step-brother.

I can see him for who he truly is. This heartless, cold, monster of a man who I used to think was a good, kind and gentle person.

His finger squeezes the trigger of his handgun and I feel the air move as the bullet leaves the barrel.

Everything moves in slow motion.

Maxim is already running before the shot is fired, and I spin my head toward where Stefano is standing. I expect to see the bullet go through him. I expect to see him collapse to the ground. But I don’t.

I don’t, because Maxim leaps into the air, throwing his body into the pathway of the bullet, and I scream a piercing cry of absolute agony as I watch the bullet slam into him.

The impact of the bullet sends his body flying backwards into the road.

My father screams with joy, his laughter piercing the night air like a banshee’s war cry.

Stefano fires two shots in quick succession, and see one of them shatter my father’s ribcage, and the second pierce his skull, blood and shattered bone flying from him. He falls backwards, his lifeless body slumping against the gravel on the side of the road.

I don’t waste a moment. I drag myself to my feet, my shoulder screaming against each small movement I make. Stefano wraps his arm around my waist.

“Maxim,” I stammer.

“Chiara, are you okay?”

“Maxim,” I say again, trying to pull away from Stefano to get to him.

He lifts me and carries me over to where Maxim is lying in the road.

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