Page 47 of Tangled Vows

“Kick it over!” Simeone commands.

I comply, my gun sliding across the ground of the roof, Ivan leaning against his palms just feet from my spot.

“You win,” I assure him. “You got us both. Now, tell me. Why did you try to blow me up?”

“Simple, you Russian fuck,” Simeone smirks. “The Armenians already had a hard-on for you. I planted that bomb so you’d think it was them.”

“The war would have weakened both the Bratva and the Armenians to make it easier for you to move in, claim territory,” I conclude, holding my arms up.

“That’s right,” he confirms with a nod, his smirk annoying the hell out of me. “You’d rip each other’s throats out. With you and them out of the picture, my family would take over. I’d become an underboss. I mentioned my plan to my Don, and he okayed it.”

“No more shooting people for a living, huh?” I taunt him, halting just next to Ivan.

“Enough with this shit,” Simeone roars, his gaze darting between me and Ivan, then back to me. “Who wants to go first?”

“Do me a favor, will you?” I say in a hesitant voice, an idea flashing through my mind. “Let me sit next to him.”

“Do it,” he orders, waving his weapon down to the ground.

“Thanks,” I murmur, a swift, sideways glance offering me some hope. Ivan still has a gun behind his back. I can see its handle sticking out from his pants. He’s just not had the chance to use it—Simeone overpowered him with his quickness, like he did with me downstairs. “Good job, Tommy. Two birds with one stone.”

“You got that right, asshole,” he states.

I bring my knees to my chest. “But not tonight.”

At that, I toss my arm to the side, the heel of my palm bumping into the fabric of Ivan’s shirt. I grab the handle of his gun and twist it in the air before raising it up to Simeone. A sharp noise tears through the atmosphere as I pull the trigger. The bullet striking the barrel of his gun, it flies up and over his forearm. He gasps, a guttural cry shooting out of me. I jump up, burning with determination to end this motherfucker, once and for all.

My body crashes against his, shoving him back. Our bodies move as one across the roof until his body smashes against the low wall behind him. He bends backwards, his arms hanging over the wall.

“You filthy fuck,” I snarl, my hands at his throat. “You didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger, so you tried to blow me up. Pathetic.”

“It almost worked,” he chokes out, my fingers tightening around his neck.

“Almost,” I bark out, pushing him upwards. As his feet leave the ground, he thrashes about and grabs my wrists. He jerks them from side to side in an attempt to break free. It’s pointless...

The fire of determination is raging through my insides. I have been waiting for this for far too long to let him slip away. His body hangs over the low wall, and I look into his eyes. All that fear, all that despair in his gaze gives me a sense of satisfaction.

Part of me wants to drag him back and beat him to death. To pound on him like I’ve never pounded on anybody before. Still, a beating would be too messy. I would splatter his blood all over that roof. Blood means evidence, and cops love getting their hands on a high-profile case like the murder of a gangster.

I release my grip on his throat, Simeone’s eyes opening wide. His arms flail about as he falls, his long cry reverberating throughout the neighborhood. My gaze follows him down, his figure getting smaller and smaller, his cry fading into nothingness.

Ivan stands next to me. A sickening thud puts an end to Simeone’s fall. His body crashes against the roof of a parked car, shards of glass shooting out and into the road and the sidewalk. He lies perfectly still with his arms out to the side, my brother staring down at the mangled vehicle.

“I’m sorry, Leonid,” he says in a broken voice. “He was too fast for me. I tried shooting him downstairs, but I didn’t have a good shot. I chased after him, but he’d been waiting for me behind the door. He slammed it in my face and knocked me out. That’s when you showed up.”

“It’s okay, Ivan,” I assure him. “I got him. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Let’s get the girls and get the hell out of here.”

I don’t waste any time. We clear the roof and run back down the stairs, my mind going back to the fear in Simeone’s eyes. I have no regret over what I did. In fact, I enjoyed it. The Italian gangster had been messing with our heads and had come very close to killing us. It was kill or be killed, and I came out on top.

Three words are sending waves of joy straight into my heart.

I destroyed him.

Tommy Simeone is no more. He’s gone. Finished.

We reach an alley behind the hotel and disappear in the dark, smiling at each other. The Bratva has prevailed again. Despite Simeone’s best efforts to get rid of me, Clare and Ivan, he failed. I saved us all, with a little bit of help from two ballsy ladies. They’ll be well compensated for their courage. For now, all I want to do is break the good news to a gorgeous brunette.

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