Page 68 of Kidnapped Bratva Toy

He gestured with his eyes across the floor. As I tracked his stare, I noticed what he was trying to signal. His gun. It was still lying just a few feet away on the floor. I needed to get there. I needed to take down Nicholas before he emptied his clip in both of us.

“You are so damn pathetic. What a fucking hypocrite!”

Nicholas droned on, and I inched away from Pietor just a hair as he spoke. When my ex-boss narrowed his eyes on me again, I froze.

“You’re falling in with the mafia, Billie. What would your sweet dead parents think of that, hmm?”

The words cut despite what I knew about my own life and what had happened between Pietor and me. I looked down at him, the gradual paling of his skin deeply concerning.

“Please hang on. I’m right here okay?”

Another horrible bark of laughter echoed through the paralegal cubicles, and I shot my gaze up to Nicholas. He started to pace slowly, letting his eyes roam the room instead of keeping them pinned on me.

“You know, I never really was one for playing it entirely by the book. When I was young, I learned too much about how the families in this town worked. I’d worked a pretty straightforward case when I was a fresh-faced attorney looking to make a name for myself.”

I scooted silently a few more inches, putting my back to the gun so Nicholas couldn’t see what I was going for. Still, I had to fight against the tremble, halting my secret movement when Nicholas looked in my direction momentarily.

“Open and shut. Should have been easy. The guy was clearly guilty, and I had the evidence and witnesses to prove it. Still,” he sighed, oddly caught up in his reminiscing, “he had men, and they paid me a little visit just before the last day of the trial.”

Closer. I was so much closer to the gun. I dared a look over my shoulder before quickly facing Nicholas again. I had just a foot. I could slide just a few inches more and reach for it.

“They, uh, what’s the expression? ‘Made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.’ And it wasn’t just my life. Oh no. He offered me money. A lot of fucking money, and you know what I learned that day?”

Inching just that little bit more, I held Nicholas’s stare as he glared down at me. I moved like a damned sloth as I reached around my back, seeking out the gun with my fingertips.

“No. What?” I feigned curiosity, even if I continued to glare right back at him.

“That I like money much more than I like the law. Cynical, greedy. Say what you want. Money makes the damn world go round, and those connections, having an in with the families in town? It’s made my life real damn comfortable.”

Just as Nicholas’s words stopped and he began to raise the gun, I felt it. The metal handle of the gun was right there. I flicked my eyes down to Pietor as my stomach clenched. I wasn’t a killer. Aside from the sparring we’d just done together, I'd never even hit anyone.

But like Pietor said. You don’t fuck with what’s mine.

Channeling my man’s speed, I snaked my hand around the gun, yanking my arm around to level the barrel in Nicholas’s direction. I squeezed the trigger as I clapped my other hand around the grip to steady my aim.

The gun screamed, launching a bullet into Nichola’s shoulder. I was hardly an incredible shot, and I was frankly just glad that I’d hit him. I rushed up to my feet, hurrying over to Nicholas as he fell back on his ass and dropped the gun.

I kicked it away, staring down at him as I pointed the gun at his head.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare. Become a murderer?! I don’t think so.”

Nicholas glared up at me as red leaked from his chest, a mirror for the wound currently affecting Pietor. I swallowed hard, meeting his furious gaze as I held the gun at the ready.

“Not murder, Nicholas. Retribution.” His eyes flared wide. “Turnaround is fair play, I’m afraid. You came after me. You came after the person I love. And hey, you wanted information on the Vadims, right? Well, here’s one for you. Don’t fuck with what’s ours unless you can finish the job.”

I fired, and Nicholas’s body twitched before settling motionless into the floor.

Cold seeped into every fiber of my being, but I had no time for that. Pietor was still behind me, and I knew that something had to be done quickly.

Rushing back to his side, I dropped the gun to the floor, but part of me knew that I had to keep an eye on it. I didn’t want it to be found by the police. Fuck, the police. What am I going to do about all this?

Something in my expression must have been enough for Pietor to go off of because he cleared his throat quietly before he croaked out a single word.

“Phone.”

I shook my head at him, not understanding at first. Then, a wave of realization hit me. The backup he’d arranged. I needed to call them. Digging through his pocket, I pulled the thing out. Pietor was unconscious now, only a few odd grunts seeping from him.

“Fuck. It’s locked.”

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