Page 109 of Stolen By The Bratva King

“Don’t look back,” I say. “No hanging around—just get out of here. You hear me?”

She comes to me, her hand on my face. She presses her lips to my cheek, her other palm on my thundering heart.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.”

My free arm wraps her waist, and I hold her for a beat, pleading with the universe to slow time to a crawl.

If there’s a God, I doubt he’s down for doing me any favors, but I’d spend a billion years in Purgatory in exchange for one deep, soul-nourishing kiss from my wife.

Her love got under my skin and my neuroses on the run, evicting my self-loathing and replacing it with a new perspective.

If a woman as smart, strong, and sweet as Emery loves me, I gotta have something going for me.

Her hand is in my jacket pocket, and I realize the key isn’t the only thing in there.

“Take the letter,” I say, my voice hoarse. “It’s for you.”

Emery clings to me still, but our time is up. Reggiani’s eyes darken; he’s sick of toying with us.

“Go to the car,” I murmur. “Grab Desi and leave right now.”

“Leon—”

“I said,go, dammit!”

I hate that my last words to her are so harsh. My heart cleaves in two, and the pain is unbearable, but bear it I must.

As long as my wife is safe, the world may keep turning, even if I’m no longer part of it.

Desi’s feet thunder on the floor as he runs to Emery’s side, followed by the door opening behind me.

All I want to do is turn around, but I can’t, and Reggiani knows it. The sadistic smirk on his face tells me everything I need to know.

“Goodbye,” I say, hoping Emery can hear me. “You were the love of my life.”

Desi whispers to himself in Serbian, trying to calm down. Emery’s voice seems to come from miles away. She wants to say so much, but only one word comes out.

“Goodbye.”

I can’t see her, but I feel her pause, and I will her to keep going.

The door opens with a rush of air, then closes. With a roar, my car engine starts up, the wheels spinning, and Emery floors it, tearing down the track with a squeal of tires.

I’m so fuckingproudof her.

My wife is a goddamn warrior, and I hope she remembers that for the rest of her days.

I release my breath. Now it’s just me, Reggiani, and the ghosts of my past.

We stare each other down, and it hits me—I no longer feel like the little boy who did too little, too late.

Ididn’tfail her. Emery is out of danger and will live on because I did what had to be done. Roman said he didn’t think I’d let love destroy me, but that’s precisely what’s about to happen.

If Reggiani shoots me, I shoot him. It’s the classic old-fashioned catch-22, and I knew it’d go this way.

What I didn’t bet on was the desperate feeling clawing at me now I know Emery is safe.

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