Page 68 of The Councilor

Great. Rain on top of this. Maybe I’d have another excuse to take a shower. It seemed rude to be doing so over a case my… fiancé had just won. I couldn’t get over the term. It was so far removed from anything I’d wanted in my life.

Bob nodded to both of us, and not only did he open the door, he walked out onto the platform, which was risky for the poor man.

The mob was worse than that morning, almost every scream calling Aleksander a murderer.

As he pushed his way through the crowd, I clung to him like some waif child. I definitely couldn’t be a celebrity. The storm was as close to being violent as I’d seen in a long time, rain pelting down, but it didn’t stop a few tenacious reporters from clawing their way through.

“Mr. Semenov. What do you have to say to the family of Emily Porter?” The woman who’d been murdered.

“Mr. Semenov. Why did you allow the miscarriage of justice?”

The questions came fast and furious, Aleksander growling before issuing a very loud ‘no comment.’ We were almost to the car when another question rang out that I would never forget.

“Miss Bernardi. Not only are you Mr. Semenov’s assistant but I understand you’re his fiancée? And you’re the daughter of one of the most notorious crime lords in the city. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Another wave of sickness and anger rushed through me. It took everything I had not to retort. What shouldn’t have surprised mebut did was that I knew the moment a switch had been flipped in Aleksander’s mind and his entire system. He was so angry the electricity he exuded was off the charts. I expected people felt it in the next county.

The unexpected came when he punched the male reporter in the face. “How fucking dare you. Miss Bernardi has nothing to do with you or anyone else. Get out of my face.”

The reporter was screaming that his nose was broken, and I sensed that we were being photographed from every angle. I could only imagine the six and eleven o’clock news programs.

But as additional questions were shot off from every direction, his grip tightened on my hand and he was nearly dragging me toward the car.

“Fuck this shit,” he muttered. I certainly had never seen him this angry, and it made me realize I didn’t want to be on his bad side. Ever. The fact that he’d come to my defense tore at a portion of my heart. I wasn’t certain whether to be flattered or overwhelmed given his possessiveness.

Suddenly, we both stopped, hearing stranger noises. Not just the screams of hatred or the cries of reporters trying to get our attention. There was definitely something else. Whatever it was became instantly unnerving.

I’d heard the term ‘hell breaking loose’ in my years on this earth. I’d also heard some say you knew when something bad was about to happen. In a few slow seconds, I felt both…

First came the punches at Aleksander, two catching the man in the face. All he’d needed to do was issue two of his own, and blood spewed across my nice suit and blouse. I was shocked, trembling to my core.

But the hair stood up on my arms and I knew something was terribly wrong. The slow motion remained as if we were being sucked into a vacuum. Instantly, I could tell Aleksander was reaching for his weapon as he glanced up at the roofline of the building across the street. With nothing in his hand, he pushed the closest people aside as he bellowed and threw his body over me.

But…

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Aleksander

“Goddamn it!” I snapped and pounded my fist on the wall.

“You should calm down, my friend,” Vadim told me. “Here’s a drink. Take it before you bust the television set.”

He knew I wasn’t simply enraged because of the crap that was being said on the various news stations. I snatched the glass from his hand, almost spilling a portion of the contents.

After hearing about the near-death experience, Nikolay had rushed over as well. The three of us stood in my study. I’d been railing at the television, but my anger was directed toward the fact I’d had my guard down without my weapon in my possession. I kept one in the car, but fifteen minutes had passed before I’d managed to get the very shaken Raphaella into the passenger seat. There’d been no way the sharpshooter had remained anywhere in the area.

The police hadn’t been so readily forthcoming to do their jobs. Even worse, Matt Tillman hadn’t been attacked. Something in the back of my mind told me I’d made a mistake in getting him off.

“She was almost killed,” I said as I turned off the television and turned around.

“You saved her,” Nikolay stated.

“There were threats, the fucking extra guards mysteriously told to leave. And some chick at my office threatened Raphaella. I need to find out who the fuck she is. Plus, this goddamn news report. It makes our marriage sound terrible.”

I was pacing the floor, trying to figure out what I was missing.

“You think this whole thing is a setup.” Nikolay was quieter than normal.

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