Page 71 of Mafia King's Bride

“Leonid.” I nod. “Where are the others?”

He points to the building behind him. “They’re ready, sir. I gathered them as you instructed. But word is Bianchi’s fortified his place. At least ten men inside. We’re only six.”

I bare my teeth in a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Six is enough. I’ll go in first, and you’ll follow. The only order is to shoot on sight. No one walks out.”

“Understood, boss.”

I slide back into my car, reaching for the glove compartment. The cold metal of the gun feels familiar in my hand, comforting.

Ever since I was young, my father drilled one lesson into me: Don’t kill unless it’s personal.

Well, thisispersonal.

By the time I reach Bianchi’s place, his men are already outside, their guns trained on my car. I step out, my hand resting on the butt of my gun, calm but coiled, ready to strike.

“Bianchi!” I yell, voice cutting through the tense air. “You want your men to die like pigs? Or do you want to come out and face me like a man? Let my wife go, and we’ll settle this between us.”

No movement, just a dead-eyed thug guarding the door.

I hear the hum of engines behind me as my men pull up and exit their cars, weapons drawn.

Bianchi’s men shuffle nervously, inching forward. Then gunfire erupts, and I duck just in time, shouting for Leonid to cover me as I make a run for the house. Bullets zip past me, one grazing my ear. I take down the guy to my right before I’m at the door, kicking it open.

Inside, the chaos quiets. A man leaps up from behind a chair, but he’s too slow. I shoot him in the shoulder, then the hand as he tries again. He drops, screaming. Another one steps out around a pillar. I duck to the right, firing straight into his gut. He goes down with a groan, and just as I’m about to take another step, Leonid’s booming shot echoes behind me.

“Go, boss,” he calls. “I’ve got this.”

I stride up the stairs, my blood pumping with one goal in mind: Bianchi. Every door I kick open reveals nothing until I reach the one that won’t budge.

He’s in there.

I press my ear to the wood, catching faint footsteps. Someone’s about to ambush me. I pretend to pound on the door, feigning ignorance, and just as the knob turns, I drop low. The second the door swings open, I kick the guy’s legs out from under him, disarming him in one move. His gun clatters away as I slam mine against the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

Then I see him—Bianchi.

He stands in the center of the room, holding a gun. Behind him on the bed, Ana’s tied up, her eyes wide with fear, though she hides it well.

Oh, you should have untied her before I got here. I might’ve let you live.

I step forward, my eyes locking on his.

“Did you like the present I sent?” I taunt, my voice low and mocking. “How did it taste?”

Bianchi snarls. “You think you can send me a corpse and call it a message? Well, message received. But here’s one for you—your wife’s mine now.”

The bastard actually has the nerve to gloat.

“You sold me out,” I growl, stepping closer. “You tried to stab me in the back after my father died. You teamed up with Igor and Alexey, and now you want to pull this shit again?”

He shrugs, his tone as smug as ever. “Why not? We aren’t brothers, Dmitri. You’re apakhan, and I’m an Italiancapo. I worked with your Bratva because I saw an opportunity. Now I see a bigger one.”

I’m closing the distance between us, my gaze darting to Ana, who’s struggling to free herself. She’s terrified but trying to staystrong. My heart clenches for a moment—a feeling I’m not used to.

Bianchi waves his gun at Ana, his smile sinister. “Drop your gun, and I’ll let her walk. Or I’ll blow her brains out right here in front of you.”

I smirk, dark and cold. “Go ahead. Do it.”

Bianchi’s eyes narrow in surprise, but he’s not ready to back down. He points the gun at her, trying to call my bluff.

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