Chapter 17
SEMYON
Anya panicsand holds the pink duvet tighter around her.
“My father,” she hisses. “Semyon!”
“Get dressed,” I tell her, drawing a gun. I open her bedroom door and close it shut behind me.
It’s a small place, so I’m immediately in front of Lazar, Anya’s father. He didn’t come alone.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lazar snarls. “Kopolov. I thought giving you my daughter was enough.”
“Anya and I came here to pick up some of her belongings.” I level my cold gaze on his associates—one short, older man with a potbelly, his jowls swinging when he turns to look at Lazar. The other is balding, thin, and frail, but for the cold promise in his eyes. He leans on a cane and looks at the two of us with mild curiosity, the way one might survey ananimal caught in a trap. Behind them, strapping bodyguards are stationed, all armed.
I don’t fucking care. I know exactly how I could take them all down. I scan the room and take stock of the exits, the guards, and the weapons on my person and at hand. My instincts sharpen. I’d kill every last one of them to get my wife out of here unscathed.
The one with the cane would be the first to go. Bastard looks like he has one foot out the door to hell already. Quick and easy—a shot to the knee would cripple him instantly. The potbellied one? Slow. He wouldn’t last ten seconds in a fight. The guards might prove to be a problem, but I can tell by the way they’re slouched and hold their weapons lazily that they may be armed but sloppy. Their stances are too loose, their gazes unfocused. Probably fucking high. I’d strike fast, disarm the closest one, and then use his weapon to eliminate the other before they knew what hit them.
My hands twitch at my sides. I could protect her. Iwouldprotect her—no matter how much blood I had to spill in the process.
If it comes to that. It better not. She belongs here as well as anyone. I wonder if she heard him. She doesn’t know he arranged for her marriage long before I gave her the illusion of consent.
“Did you set us up?” the man with the cane demands, glaring at Lazar.
“Of course not. I had no idea they’d be here.”
I draw in a breath and stand up straighter. “He’s telling the truth. We came to retrieve a few of Anya’s belongings.” Wehave no idea who was involved in Eli’s supposed abduction. For all I know, it was Lazar’s doing. He certainly seems to think of his children as bargaining chips.
The door to the bedroom opens, and Anya steps out, fully dressed, her hair tucked into a neat bun at the nape of the neck, elegant and poised. You’d never know I just took her virginity on the soft pink duvet.
I liked the way she looked wrapped up in it, my very own little present.
“What the fuck are you up to?” Lazar snarls at her. I turn to face him, blood boiling in my veins.
“Speak to my wife like that again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”
No one moves.
Lazar’s voice is a dangerous slur. “You dare to come into my home and threaten me?”
Why does everyone always think it’s a threat?
I tip my head. “You dare to speak to a queen of the Kopolov Bratva with disrespect?”
He takes a step toward me, but I cluck my tongue and shake my head. Since I’ve mentionedqueen of the Kopolov Bratva,none of the other men move. I’m well within my rights to punish him for disrespect, and their interference could start a war. Every move is careful, calculated.
One of the guards cracks his knuckles and steps closer. “Lay one finger on her,” I warn, my voice deadly calm, even as I’m mentally pulling the trigger. “And I’ll cut off your fucking hand.”
The roomgoes silent. Good. They know I’m not bluffing.
“Now, is there a reason why you’re here?” I keep my gun trained on them.
“I had work here to do.”
“Work?” Anya says, shaking her head. “There’s nothing here for you to work on. Why don’t you leave and let us finish? Then you and your cronies can do whatever you want here.” She holds her head high. “Stefan and I won’t be back, so you can finally live in filth like you’ve tried to make us do.”
He takes a step toward her, hand raised. “You think just because you’re married, you can?—”