Page 68 of Used By the Bratva

I pull my knee up and slam it as hard as I can into his balls.

“Fuck!” He groans and falls away from me.

I yank the gun from his holster and toss it to Denis. “Get Natalie the fuck away from here.”

Denis storms into the room, grabs Natalie, and leads her out.

Carlo smirks as he stands up again and clenches his hands into fists. “You know, you’re not like your brother. He was too weak for this world. You thrive in it. Look at you; you’re practically salivating with the thought of killing me. You bloodthirsty bastard.”

“You laid your fucking hands on my wife. You have kidnapped her. You will pay for this.”

I walk toward him, dodge one of his blows, but take another on the jaw.

Even though I have the gun, I want to kill him with my bare hands. After everything he’s done to Natalie, I need to see the life drain from his eyes, and I need to know he can never hurt her again.

I toss the gun aside before lunging at him again. “You’re a fucking bastard.”

As his body hits the ground, I wrap my hands around his throat.

He smirks at me and rams the heel of his hand into my jaw. Pain floods through me, but I hold on and squeeze harder until his face turns deep red.

He struggles under me, claws at my hand, and cuts me with his nails. He fights harder and swings his fists, but there's no more power behind the blows.

I press my thumbs into the sides of his esophagus. “You’re a weak man, Carlos. You thought you could only win this fight by taking a woman. What a fucking coward.”

Chuckling, I loosen my grip enough for him to take a gasping breath. A brief glimmer of hope lights up in his bloodshot eyes before I tighten my grip again.

Killing the Italian Don will bring nothing but hell to my family, but I don’t care. Any one of our guys would do the same for his wife. They would not stand idly by and watch harm come to the woman they married. None of them would.

We can deal with whatever comes our way, but tonight, Carlo Mancini dies.

“You didn’t think I'd let you live?” I scoff as his face turns dark red again. “You took my wife and our unborn child from me. You thought you could hurt her.”

He flinches and claws at me again, but his grip is loose and clumsy. He can’t get a proper grip; the life is draining out of him fast.

“You’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a man, Carlos, and you’re going to burn in hell where you belong.”

I squeeze harder; his airways collapse under my hands.

His eyes grow cloudy as he gasps for air, but it’s too late. He signed his death certificate the moment he set his sights on Natalie.

After a few more moments, I stand up and wipe the blood from my hands on his jacket. I pick up my gun and tuck it into my waistband before going to find my wife.

Denis is sitting in the kitchen with Natalie. She is sitting on a bar stool and has a white towel wrapped around her hand, although the blood is seeping through the fabric quickly.

She takes a deep breath and looks at me. “Is he dead?”

Her expression is blank, her voice devoid of emotion as she waits for me to answer.

Denis gently guides her hand higher than her heart again as it drops lower. “You must stay this high, so you don’t lose more blood.”

I go over to her. “He is dead. He will never be able to hurt you or our child again. I took care of him, solnyshko. Everything is going to be okay.”

I speak softly and reassuringly, taking her hand and unwrapping the towel. The cut is deep and still bleeding. “New towel.”

Denis reaches into a drawer, pulls out a new one, and hands it to me.

I take the new towel and wrap it tighter around her hand. She winces and rests her forehead on my sternum.

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