Page 78 of Crowned

The attacker lifts his boot again, this time over Elyah’s head. He’ll stomp on my lover’s skull over and over again until he’s dead.

“Elyah,” I gasp in panic.

I scramble out from behind the sofa, grab the gun, raise it, and fire. I keep squeezing the trigger over and over, filled with panic.

I don’t realize I’m screaming until the gun clicks in my hand.

Someone puts his hand on the gun, his breathing harsh in my ear. “He’s dead. They’re all dead.”

When I don’t move, Konstantin wrenches the weapon away from me.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing, Lilia? I told you to stay put.”

I didn’t think. I acted on instinct.

“I was saving Elyah,” I pant. “I was saving all of you. If he went down, you all might have been killed.”

Konstantin watches me with a narrowed, angry gaze. “We matter enough to save? I thought we were unforgivable.”

That doesn’t mean I want them to die.

It’s…complicated.

There’s blood on his shirt and I feel his arms and chest for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Konstantin growls, grabbing hold of my wrists. “Don’t do anything like that again. One of us could have shot you.”

“Elyah—”

“Elyah wanted you to protect the baby,” Kirill seethes in my ear. He’s come up on my other side with blood all over his face and chest, though from the looks of it, it’s not his. “I had Elyah’s back.”

Even Elyah doesn’t say anything grateful or reassuring. His expression is dark and troubled as he gets to his feet, his right wrist held close to his chest. “Let us do our jobs, Lilia. If I am shot or injured, it is part of this life.”

“But if I can help—”

Elyah is either in too much pain or too angry with me, as he turns away and starts going through our attackers’ pockets with his left hand.

I gaze around at the devastation in my tiny apartment. The broken front door. The furniture that was busted in the struggle. The bodies. The mess that the hitmen have made of everything.

Konstantin is still holding one of my wrists. “We are leaving this apartment. We should have left days ago.”

I swallow hard and nod. We should leave quickly. One of my neighbors will have probably called the police by now.

Elyah comes toward us, cradling his right arm against his chest. His face is pale and sweaty as he holds something out to us. “Here.”

It’s a photograph.

Of me.

My golden hair is pinned up and there’s a veil hanging down my back. I’m wearing a white dress with long lace sleeves, and there are diamonds in my ears. On my face is a closed-lip smile and my eyes are sad.

My wedding day with Ivan.

“Assassins,” Elyah says. “Someone wants you dead. Either your father, or Vavilov.”

Maybe it’s both. Dad was furious with me last time I saw him. “I don’t understand how they know I’m here.”

Konstantin thinks about this. “In between Vavilov seeing you in the restaurant and going on a date with you, how much time passed?”

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