Page 95 of Mafia King's Bride

“Civil?” I spit the word. “You want to gloat first, is that it?”

He shrugs, spreading his arms wide. “Why not? It’s not every day you get to end a bloodline. Especially one as...troublesome as yours.”

As I stare at Nikolai, all I see is a man drunk on his own power, bloated with overconfidence. Even with his gunman and his secret doors, he should know better than to think everything will go according to plan.

I take a careful step to the right. The gunman mirrors my movement, his weapon now inches from my head.

“Any last words, Nikolai?” I ask, injecting as much boredom into my voice as I can muster. “A message for your daughter, perhaps? I’d be happy to pass it along.”

He laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “Look at you, still so cocky. You think because you outsmarted that Italian fool and manipulated Pavlov, I’ll be an easy mark? You’ve got a lot to learn, boy.”

I shrug, mildly impressed that he knows about my plans for Igor. “You’ve clearly been busy. But humor me. Why wait all this time? You’ve had plenty of chances to take me out. Hell, you could’ve had one of your goons run me off the road any day of the week. Why the elaborate setup?”

Nikolai’s eyes gleam with malice. “Because I wanted to savor this moment. I wanted to see the realization in your eyes when you finally understood that you’ve lost. That everything you’ve built is about to crumble.”

As he rambles on, something catches my eye. There’s a building nearby, tall enough to have a clear shot into this office. And on its roof, I spot a figure.

I get the signal and cut Nikolai off mid-gloat. “Hey, Nikolai. Quick question—what kind of animal can both swim and fly?”

He blinks, thrown off by the non sequitur. “What?”

I smirk, raising my hand with four fingers extended. “Let me spell it out for you. D-U-C-K.”

The last letter is punctuated by the sound of shattering glass as a sniper’s bullet finds its mark in Nikolai’s chest. I drop to the floor, but I’m a split second too late. Nikolai’s gunman manages to get off a shot that grazes my shoulder, sending a bolt of white-hot pain through my body.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I draw my weapon and fire in one fluid motion. My bullet tears through the gunman’s hand, sending his weapon flying across the room. Not taking any chances, I empty my clip into him, each shot echoing in the suddenly silent office.

The gunman crumples to the floor, no longer a threat. I struggle to my feet, my injured shoulder protesting every movement, and survey the scene. Nikolai lies motionless, taken out by my sniper’s precision. His henchman is a bloody heap by the hidden door.

When the echo of gunfire fades, I make my way to Nikolai’s body, staring down at the man who caused so much pain.

“Too bad,” I mutter, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. “I would’ve loved to see the light leave your eyes.”

I glance around the office, wondering if there are security cameras. If so, the footage will make for interesting viewing later.

But that’s a concern for my team. Right now, there’s only one person on my mind. One woman I need to see more than anything.

It’s time to bring Ana home.

THIRTY-SEVEN

ANA

The knock on my door jolts me awake. For a moment, I’m disoriented, unsure how long I’ve been napping. These days, exhaustion is my constant companion.

It must be Viktor, I think, my stomach knotting with dread. He’s probably here to tell me my time’s up, that I need to make a decision. I’ve been dreading this moment, putting it off as long as I can.

I sigh heavily, my feet dragging as I make my way to the door. What am I supposed to tell him? That I still don’t have an answer? That I’m torn between protecting everyone and following my heart? That I miss Dmitri so much it feels like a physical ache, a constant hollowness in my chest that nothing can fill?

My hand hesitates on the doorknob. Maybe if I’m quiet, Viktor will think I’m not home. But no, that’s just delaying the inevitable. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation to come.

“Viktor, I—” The words die in my throat as I open the door.

It’s not Viktor.

It’s Dmitri.

Standing right there, in the flesh, looking at me with those intense eyes I’ve dreamed about every night since I left.

---