Page 64 of Rafi

I can’t breathe. I’m moving, weaving, my steps unpredictable as I dare Daniel to fire and miss. I think it’s the only thing that will stop him from actually firing the gun.

“Tayana, stop!” Rafi shouts, but his voice gets swallowed in the chaos.

Lucky lunges again, and this time, he connects. He collides with Russo like a wrecking ball, and they both hit the floor in a tangle of limbs. Russo’s gun clatters to the ground, spinning out of reach for a moment. Lucky grapples with him, fists flying, but then—Daniel stretches his arm out, trying to wrap his hand around the gun again.

I move, running toward Daniel to kick the gun out of his reach, even as the gunfire outside swells, closer now, the walls shuddering with the force of it.

Daniel’s finger scrapes the side of the gun, even as Lucky struggles against him, his fist driving into his face. But then another sound cuts through the chaos, drowning out every other sound—a single gunshot from inside the room.

I stop short when I see Lucky stagger, his face contorted with pain. His hand flies to his side, blood seeping through his fingers.

“Lucky!” I yell, but I can’t get to him. Igor’s shouting again, his voice sharp with fury.

Then, without warning, Igor raises his own gun and points it at Russo.

“I told you to put it down,” Igor growls.

Russo’s eyes widen, but there’s no time for him to react. Igor pulls the trigger, the sound sharp and final. Blood pools in his chest, and Daniel Russo crumples to the floor, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing, a vicious end to a vile life.

“No!” I scream, although I don’t know why. Don’t I want Daniel Russo dead and gone? Before I can process what I’m doing, I dive toward one of the fallen guards, my hands scrambling for the weapon at his hip. I’m fast, but not fast enough.

Igor is on me in an instant, pulling me away from the guard’s body. He wrenches the gun from my grip, his strength overpowering me. He yanks me to my feet, twisting my arm behind my back.

“Enough of this,” Igor snarls, pressing his gun to my temple. My breath catches as fear finds its home again.

“Let her go!” Rafi roars, the words ripping out of him.

The door bursts open behind us, more guards flooding into the room, their weapons drawn.

“Stand down!” Igor commands, dragging me toward the door. “Or she dies.”

The room is a mess of shouts, but no one moves. Jacklyn’s face is a mask of fury and fear, her hands trembling as she grips a knife she must’ve taken from one of the guards. Scar and Mason are still fighting, but their movements slow as the odds stack higher against us.

My gaze is drawn to Lucky as he groans from the floor, his blood pooling beneath him, the color draining from his face. Jacklyn drops to his side, pressing her hands to his wound.

“We’re not done yet,” she says, her voice fierce despite the fear in her eyes. Lucky closes his eyes, and I watch in horror as his lifeless hand falls to his side.

A guttural scream erupts within the room, and I realize it’s Rafi as he looks down at his brother laying in his own blood.

Igor backs toward the exit, holding me in front of him, his men closing ranks around him. I struggle against his hold but I’m unable to break free.

“Don’t come after us,” he warns, his voice cold. “Or I’ll make sure she doesn’t survive the night.”

I find Rafi’s eyes, and he looks at me helplessly as we disappear through the door and down the hallway. I hear the door slam shut behind us, leaving Rafi in the wreckage of what we were, what we could’ve been, my heart pounding like a war drum.

37

TAYANA

The hallway stretches endlessly before us, dimly lit and suffocating, the shadows flickering like specters against the walls. My feet barely touch the ground as Igor drags me forward, his grip an unyielding vise around my arm. Every step feels like I’m being hauled deeper into the abyss. Behind us, the clash of chaos fades, muffled by distance, but not by fear.

Guards flank us, their footsteps heavy and relentless. Each one keeps a hand on their weapon, ready to cut down anyone brave—or foolish—enough to follow. A faint voice shouts in the distance, but it’s swallowed by the cavernous hallway, and I don’t dare look back. My heart thunders in my chest, each beat a hammer against my ribs, but Igor doesn’t even glance over his shoulder. He’s too assured of his control, his confidence a silent threat that keeps my blood cold.

The path seems endless, a cruel labyrinth designed to strip away any hope of escape. Finally, we come to a towering iron door, its surface mottled with history and time. Igor pauses, pulling out a massive key that scrapes against the lock. The sound reverberates in the silence like the tolling of a bell,ominous and final. With a metallic groan, the door swings open, and he shoves me inside.

The room beyond is circular, oppressive, its high walls leading to an arched ceiling that curves like a crown. My breath catches—it’s a tower. A prison disguised as a sanctuary. Igor doesn’t stop moving. He propels me forward toward another door, smaller but just as foreboding, and pushes it open.

Cold air rushes in, biting and sharp, and I realize where we’re headed: a rooftop. My shoes scuff against the ancient stone tiles as he yanks me through the hatch and out onto the precarious surface. The world opens up around me, vast and unforgiving, the wind howling like a living thing.

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