Page 65 of Stolen By The Bratva King

“Fuck yourself,” I reply. “Any other suggestions? Because you won’t get a second chance to get this right, and if you’re as good a shot at close range as you are at distance, you’re about as likely to kill me as old age.”

“Very fucking funny.”

“Let Emery and her father leave,” I say. “Everything else is negotiable. If you so much as level your gun at my wife, you may as well put a bullet in your head to spare yourself the Hell I’ll put you through.”

I sit up and unsheath my spare pistol from the ankle holster, handing it silently to Alec. He stares at me, eyes imploring, but I ignore him.

Others could be looking for their chance to get in their boss’s good books, and I can’t let Emery and her father leave unarmed.

Alec puts the gun in his jacket pocket.

“Okay,” the shooter says. “All three of you stand up. Right now.”

I draw my primary gun and take Emery’s shaking hand in mine. Nodding at her and Alec, we get slowly to our feet.

Predictably, the would-be killer immediately trains his weapon on Emery, and the sight stirs a deep rage in my chest. I step in front of her, keeping hold of her hand, my gun raised and pointed straight at him.

“Oh, I get it. Fine, whatever.” He waves his gun at Emery. “Get out of here, you fat bitch, and take Daddy with you. Quickly, before I change my mind.”

Once she’s out of here, it’ll be down to me and this scumbag.

I’m the fucking bratva king, and there’s a good chance I’ll die out here. I mean, there’s no way I’m going down without taking this fucker out, but still, it’s pretty anticlimactic.

It’s true what they say; it only takes one man to make a difference.

I want to watch Emery as she goes. It may be the last time I set eyes on her, but I can’t afford to break my concentration.

If this piece of shit gets the drop on me, he might kill me and then go after my wife.

She’ll be okay. Viktor knows about this; he’ll get her out of the city, away from the war that will inevitably break out when news of my demise gets around.

If this is goodbye, I hope my wife knows I meant what I said. I loved her and always will.

I let go of her hand. “Leave with your father,moya zhena,” I say.

36

Leon

Emery stutters as she speaks, fear choking her words.

“Leon, don’t?—”

“Go,” I snap, my eyes fixed on the threat before me. “Do what I say!”

I want to reassure her, to tell her she’s my world and all that will ever matter. But I can’t split my attention or show weakness, not now, even if it’s my last chance.

Alec is arguing with her, but Emery won’t listen. I block her pleading words, trying not to let them reach my heart.

“Leon!” she cries. Alec is dragging her away now, her voice growing more distant. “Don’t do this!”

“Em, we gotta go,” Alec says. “We gotta get out of here, honey.”

With that, they’re gone, and the shooter laughs behind his mask.

“Just the two of us,” he says. “Alone at last.”

“I warned you,” I say, my gun steadily pointing at his head. “You’ll regret threatening my woman, you fucking idiot.”

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