Page 48 of Tangled Vows

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ivan

Leonid’s one brilliant bastard...

Of course, I knew that long before Simeone tried to blow him and Clare to pieces. His wits helped him rise through the ranks of the Bratva.

Tonight, those brains got us out of the pickle we were in and gave Simeone what he deserved. An agonizing death. They also made sure I didn’t pay the price for being slow. The Italian was five inches shorter and easily fifty pounds lighter than me.

In a fistfight, I would have destroyed him, but we never got to use our fists. He outran me and banged a door into my face. After that, he could have filled my body with bullets, but he didn’t. Instead, he decided to wait for Leonid to join us out on that roof so we could watch each other getting gunned down. It’s this greed that got him killed.

I love how Leonid managed to keep everything nice and neat. He didn’t just trick Simeone into thinking that sitting next to me was his last wish. No one would suspect foul play. To the outside world, Simeone is just a thug that fell to his own death. No bullet took his life. It was gravity that did the trick.

Cops could tear the building apart looking for clues and forensics, but one thing was certain: They wouldn’t find my fingerprints or Leonid’s. We wiped the elevator surfaces clean on our way down. Rurik hacked into the surveillance system of that hotel before we set off. By now, I’m sure he’s deleted all the evidence of my presence and Leonid’s.

For weeks, I had been positive what this drive home would be like. Leonid would be all smiles and cheerful, singing songs in the car and high-five’ing me every few minutes. He likes to show his emotions, no matter the circumstance. He doesn’t hide much—that’s who he is.

Well, I was wrong.

My brother is absolutely drained. This situation took a lot out of him; I can see it in his eyes. He may be smiling, but his body language is giving away his exhaustion. He’s slow to turn the steering wheel. He’s not the talkative Leonid that I’ve known all my life. Sighs leave his mouth every couple of minutes or so.

I can’t say that I mind this last bit. My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since my brother threw Simeone off that roof. I can sit back and relax. I can enjoy the feeling of victory against our rival.

The “Surfside” sign on our way puts a smile on my face. At last, I’m going to see Clare again. I can’t wait to see her reaction when she sees the two of us come through the front door. She’s been hiding from the world for weeks. She’s put her own life on hold because we thought the Armenians were too stubborn to let her go. There’s no threat now. Nobody’s going to harm her. She can finally celebrate her freedom.

Clare

If I had heels on, I’m pretty sure they would have dug holes in the living room floor.

I can understand why Leonid would leave me that letter. He was just trying to express himself and let me know that my adventure would soon be over. It was his way of telling me that he and Ivan would defend me, even if that led to their own demise. I appreciated the gesture; yet, it had a profound effect on me.

It plunged me deeper into a world of anxiety and fear.

I have been awake for over twenty-four hours. Not that I got much sleep prior to receiving Leonid’s letter. However, there’s a big difference between getting four or five hours of sleep and not getting any shut-eye at all. My body is screaming, “Go to bed; I’m too exhausted to stay awake anymore.” My brain is urging me to stay up and walk around the living room because my men are out there and I have no idea if they’re dead or alive.

I check the time on the clock over the wall. It’s almost one am as a light comes through the window in the corner. At first, I think it’s just some car passing by. The light becomes stronger and a noise from outside compels me to change my mind. I hear tires rolling on the dirt, a low engine rumble and male voices. There’s definite cheer in the air. Yuri and the rest of the guards are happy about something. They put their hands together, my heart racing in my chest on my way to the front door.

The view from outside is... breathtaking. Leonid and Ivan are engulfed in the arms of their comrades. Hands slamming together in high-fives, the guards congratulate them and hug them. It’s like I’m watching a basketball game where teammates celebrate a huge victory. At the end of this thought, a single word lingers in my mind.

Victory.

They won.

They’re alive and well.

Leonid brushes Yuri aside; he heads in my direction, wearing a precious smile. Ivan follows behind him, the men dispersing amid loud laughter.

I step back, shaking my head, my heart leaping for joy. Once Ivan’s closed the door behind him, I can’t—and won’t—hold back. I jump towards Leonid, my arms flying over my head. He throws his own arms out and catches me in mid-air. I squeeze him tight and wave Ivan closer.

My mouth presses into Leonid’s shoulder, tears rising up in my eyes. With my arms locked around their necks, I savor the closeness between us. My tears soak the fabric of Leonid’s shirt, my body trembling in these moments of quiet happiness.

“It’s over,” he announces in a soft voice. “It’s all over now. You’re free.”

“God...” I sniffle, easing back to look him in the eye. “You’re here. Alive. You came back to me.”

“Yes, we did,” Ivan confirms in a stronger tone. “Leonid threw that prick off a hotel roof.”

“That’s right.” Leonid gives a brief laugh. “Simeone tried to instigate a war between the Bratva and the Armenians by putting a bomb in my car. He’d planned to later finish off both of us and claim our territories for his family.”

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