Page 28 of Zafira

“No, he’s not. I just saw a reflection to the right of where the shot initially came from. He’s trying to ascertain if he got the hit.”

“The hit?” Zafira pressed herself against the wall. “Get down, Vanya, and stay low.” She looked at Bogdan. “Are you saying there’s a contract out on me?”

“You didn’t know?” He shook his head as he cautiously opened the sliding glass door. “Tsk-tsk-tsk, Comare. You’re slipping.” Glancing over his shoulder at Vanya, he said in a clipped tone, “Protect your mother.” Pointing in three directions, he continued, “Vadim, you and Antonio go around the house to the left. Andrei, you, and Arian to the right. I’m going to skirt around and approach the fuckface from behind. I want him herded. If there’s a chance of him escaping, shoot to incapacitate, not kill. I want to know who the fuck sent him.”

Zafira was in awe of the natural way Bogdan took charge. He had always been the one taking orders and performing them without saying a word. To see him exerting such powerful confidence without effort set her heart racing. This was the Bogdan she had fallen in love with all those years ago. The one who wasn’t scared to take charge and shot the stupidity of his friends down when he didn’t agree with what they were doing.

Then why did he allow them to force a wedge between us? Why didn’t he fight for me when he returned a year later? Was it because he truly never loved me?

The loud boom of a gunshot outside shattered her thoughts.

“No!” With fear rushing through her like a destructive tornado, Zafira raced toward the front door, only to be tackled onto the sofa by her fiery daughter.

“Don’t be stupid, Mom. Running outside is going to draw all the attention to you, and it’ll only end in disaster... for our boys. They’ll forget to take care of their own safety in an effort to protect you.” She smiled as she raised her trusted Molotov pistol. “Besides, I’ve got you.”

“Someone was shot, Vanya. I’ve gotta go look. What if it’s—” She bit back the words that threatened to explode unchecked from her lips. Her feelings for Bogdan had always been kept close to her heart. She had never shared it with anyone, not even her gorgeous but obviously very clever daughter.

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’m sure Bogdan is fine. Besides, my newly acquired tata has too much going for him now to allow any pitiful assassin to end the life of the ubiytsa smerti. If anyone is shot, it’s most probably the motherfucker who was stupid enough to come to your home, believing he’d get away scot-free.” She giggled as she peeked over the back of the sofa. “Have you seen how he has changed, Mama? So powerful, demanding, and issuing orders left, right, and center, and not one of our big, bad boys blinked an eye. They just jumped to attention and did his bidding.” She slapped a hand on her thigh. “Now that’s the Bogdan I knew he was. I’m so stoked he finally found the power and confidence within himself.”

“It’s always been there, my darling,” Zafira said softly as realization struck. “He just kept it suppressed... because of me.”

“I have a question, and I’d appreciate an honest answer.” Vanya scrutinized her mother’s expression. “Why have you kept your feelings from Bogdan all these years? It’s been so long since Dad’s death, and still, you keep him at a distance. Don’t you think it’s time to admit that you love him? Or do you really want to grow old alone?”

“That’s three questions.” Zafira felt her face heating as a blush crept over her cheeks under Vanya’s examination.

“Humor me,” Vanya said. Her expression was resolute, warning Zafira that she wasn’t going to back down.

“I don’t believe anyone wants to grow old alone. The prospect of that is quite depressing.” Vanya once again foiled her attempt to peek outside by yanking her down behind the sofa.

“Stay out of sight, please. Continue, I’m listening.”

“Good Lord, you’re bossy,” Zafira complained but sagged down next to her, a ragged sigh confirming that she had given up fighting her very determined daughter.

“Who said I’m in love with Bogdan? Just because you and Andrei found each other doesn’t mean everyone else should follow suit. Besides,” she quickly continued before Vanya could voice the words hovering on her lips. “It’s more important to get Arian and Izolda back together. He hasn’t said a word about her apart from telling me she left him. Nor has he made any attempt to make contact with her. It’s not right. He loves her, and she loves him. They belong together. They always have.”

“Hmm, that does sound so fitting... and not only for Arian and Izolda, don’t you agree, Mama?”

“Enough, Vanya. You’re digging where there is no tree to plant.”

“Am I? I may be younger than you, but I’m not stupid. I know you, and I know Bogdan. I’ve watched the two of you all these years. No matter how hard either of you deny it, you love each other. I’ll be fucked if I know why you are both so hardheaded and not owning up to it.” She shook her head.

“Time waits for no one, Mom. Once it passes you by, you can never get it back. Don’t wake up when it’s too late. You’re worried Bogdan is the one who got shot. What if it was him, and he’s dying or already dead out there?” Vanya’s eyes sparked as Zafira turned pale. “Yeah, just imagine losing him without ever telling him how you feel or living with his lovemaking every moment of every day for the rest of your life? Wake up, Mama, or the time will come that you will regret you never did.”

It was a vision that shook Zafira’s equilibrium. Even while Bogdan had been away, the days had been long and lonely, but she had always known he was there... somewhere, alive and within reach. All she had to do was call. He would’ve come without question.

Vanya was right. The time had come to put aside her pride. Life was giving her a second chance with Bogdan.

All she had to do was take it.

Chapter Fourteen

A couple of miles from the farmhouse of Ferma La Guzun...

The underground dungeon was dark and damp, lit only by a few flickering torches along the stone walls. Water dripped down from the ceiling, collecting in small puddles on the cold floor. Chains and shackles hung menacingly from various points along the walls and pillars. In the center of the room, tied securely to a wooden chair, sat the assassin—slender and dressed all in black, with sharp angular features and jet-black hair. Dried blood caked one side of his face from a wound sustained during his capture. Pale gray eyes flashed defiantly as he stared at the three men who had strapped his hands and ankles tightly to the chair.

With expressions hard and unforgiving, Bogdan, Vadim, Arian, and Andrei watched him for long, stretched-out moments.

“Talk, motherfucker. Who hired you to kill the Comare?” Bogdan finally demanded in a low but firm voice.

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