Page 16 of Savage Heart

Erika hurried away, disappearing up the stairs.

God, please…please…let this just be me being paranoid.

Swallowing her anxiety, she moved toward the door, her heart racing. The silhouettes shifted in the glass, drawing Liz’s gaze. She only saw two, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. And what were two men doing on her doorstep at eight o’clock at night? She might live in a somewhat affluent area, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been break-ins and other crimes in the area. She’d upgraded the security on the condo before she’d moved in, but it was not high tech enough to tell her why there were men on her porch.

She made it to the door and peered out through the peephole. She was right. Two men. Two men dressed like wealthy thugs. Designer suits that fit tight, showing off their massive bodies. And the tattoos on their necks….

Shit, shit, shit!

She could just ignore them and hope they went away, but her car was parked right out front.

She’d just have to brave it out and hope they were looking for donations for something.

Planting her “bedside manner” smile on her face, she opened the door.

Menace. The menace oozing from the men before her hit her in the face, full force.

Notlooking for donations.

“Gentlemen, how can I help you?”

“Dr. Simpson. My name is Danil Oblek, and I believe we have a…colleague in common.”

“Oh? No offense, but I don’t think we run in the same circles.” There had to be some misunderstanding—there was no way she knew anyone who…well…. She knew the look of the two men. Their suits. Their neck tattoos…and hand tattoos. Their menace. The coldness in their dark eyes.

Mafia.

Bratva.

There were two Bratva goons on the porch of her house, her daughter only a few dozen feet away. And they could onlybeBratva. During her rotation in the ER at University Medical Center, she’d seen more than one person come through the swinging doors with a GSW. And a few of them sported the same look. Vegas was rife with mafia types, and they were living cliches—just like in the dark romance novels she devoured.

But this wasn’t a romance novel. It wasn’t even fiction—it was happening in real life.Herlife!

“Oh, you’d be surprised by my circles, Dr. Simpson,” he replied, smirking, his lips curling in a manner not unlike a wolf catching sight of a rabbit. “I would like to discuss this further with you, doctor, but I must insist we do that inside.”

He didn’t even bother asking to enter her home before the thug on the right pushed his way in.

She wanted to demand they leave, to get the hell out, but the cold, calculating look on Danil Oblek’s face told her that there was no way she was going to get them to do anything. And if she tried, he’d enjoy reminding her how powerless she was.

Which meant she had to get through whatever the hell he wanted to discuss, then she needed to get them the hell out of there.

She had no idea how much time had passed, but she could guess it was encroaching on five minutes, and if she knew her daughter, there would be a call to Odin the second the ten minutes were up.

God, what a mess it would be to have Odin in the same room with the Bratva. She couldn’t fathom the amount of carnage that would make, but it was better to have him there if she needed him…and it looked like she might.

Danil’s gaze drifted over the living room, his eyes seeming to miss nothing. They stopped dead at the second plate on the coffee table.

Erika’s Trolls plate.

Oh. Oh no. Oh God.

Panic surged, tearing through her like a fire of anguish. She couldn’t let anything happen to her baby girl! She had to get them out of there before they decided that she and her daughter were fair game.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?” she asked, crossing her trembling arms over her chest, not surprised that her voice shook, too. She caught the movement of the second thug, who was slowly drifting around the living room, touching something here, staring at something there. When he passed in front of the TV, which was still playing that stupid Dracula movie, she prayed he didn’t decide to venture up the stairs.

God, please, keep my baby safe!

Danil’s goon turned back to her, a predatory smile curling up the sides of his mouth.

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