Page 64 of Stolen By the Bratva

I charged at Lev instead, knocking his gun to the ground. He hadn’t kept a good enough hold on it, and the firearm smacked to the pavement, loosening the silencer he’d attached to it. Instead, he retaliated with his hands and feet, attacking me and wrestling to beat me down, man to man.

He wouldn’t win. There was no way I would slip and let him get on me like this. Seeing him being rough with Mila ensured that he would receive every ounce of my anger, and I vented it all with every punch, jab, and kick I rained down on his body and face. This was rage, no holds barred. I unleashed a steady stream of violence until he panted and shook, struggling to rise to both knees. He couldn’t keep going, worn from the battery of my fists.

A dark mist of violence had claimed my mind, and I wouldn’t stop until he’d lost his last breath.

“You touch her, you die,” I reminded him as I grabbed his head and twisted hard.

A final, sickening crack followed the gesture. His body went limp, sagging in my hands before I released him with a shove. Over and down, he folded and sank to the puddles in the alley.

I stood there catching my breath from the bloody and brutal fight to the death, staring down at his corpse as I waited for my heart to return to a normal, steadier pace. I wouldn’t be calm for another year, it seemed. My heart still charged fast, riled up from seeing Mila targeted and captured to be returned to her father.

Still, I'd heard her beg to be released. Flashbacks of her cries replayed in my mind, when she’d demanded that Lev release her. Her warnings that I’d be out looking for her and wanting her back.

She was right. And wrong.

Dmitri and I had been coming here to corner Murphy and spy on him for the sake of changing the details of tomorrow’s big shipment coming in to the Colver dock.

As soon as he’d parked nearby, I got a call reporting the deaths of three guards at the building, all shot dead by none other than Geoff Federov. Cameras had caught him breaking in and trying to rape my wife in our home.

The second I heard her crying out in the alley, I’d run back here, ensuring Dmitri could leave to deal with the chaos at the building.

It’s done. He’s dead. He can’t hurt her. I heaved out one more deep breath and turned to see her where she'd snuck back to hide alongside a dumpster. Soaking wet, she looked drenched and miserable. I saw her shaking from the cold as I stalked over to her. Her hair was plastered to her head, and as I neared her, she stared up at me with wide-open, trusting but fearful eyes. Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, but she didn’t take her hands from her ears. She’d no doubt covered them at the awful sound of Lev’s neck snapping.

“Come here.” I didn’t order it harshly despite the rage still simmering in my blood. I offered her my hand, trying to coax her closer.

She came. She stepped carefully toward me, lowering her hands to take the one I held out to her.

The moment she placed her delicate fingers, so icy cold and wet, in my hand, I grabbed her close and wrapped my arms around her.

She sobbed, shivering, shuddering, and sniffling against me. I felt every tremor of her body shaking in the cold and fear, and I didn’t waste a second to scoop her into my arms and carry her further from the man who’d tried to return her to her father against her wishes.

“I… I…”

I pressed a kiss to her temple as she tucked her face to me, burrowing close.

“I didn’t run.”

I barked out a single laugh. Nothing about this was humorous, but still. “You did.”

“I ran to hide.” She cried harder, then cleared her throat harshly, as though she scolded herself to stay strong. “I ran to get away from him and I didn’t… I didn’t know where you were.”

That’s the last time we’ll ever make that mistake. “I know.”

“I’m sorry. Alek, I didn’t… I didn’t run.”

I kissed her again, clutching her closer as I brought her to the car.

Dmitri had already come back. I saw his car pulling up at the end of the alley, and he didn’t utter a word as he got out and opened the back door for us. I climbed in, not releasing my grip on her once as I adjusted her on my lap.

My brother knew better than to speak as he drove. When I met his gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror, he nodded once.

I interpreted that as the all-clear. He’d handled Geoff’s corpse at the apartment. He’d seen to the removal of all the bodies and blood.

I nodded back, knowing he would understand and receive my thanks in that silent gesture.

Words weren’t necessary now. All that mattered was making sure Mila was warm and clean, safe and dry. And with me, where she belonged.

I hated that I’d let my doubts get the better of me this morning. As she trembled and cried softly in my lap, I vowed to never doubt her again. I’d suspected that she was a rare gift, a unique and unlikely gift that I wasn’t sure I deserved. I had a hunch deep down inside that she was worthy of my trust, and I despised that it had taken me so long to get my head out of my ass and realize it.

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