Page 61 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

His eyes caught mine, holding them in a dark gaze that was full of so much emotion it was like they wrapped around me,and I could feel their warmth. All of a sudden, it was like we were the only ones in the room.

“Because I want you to be happy. I want you to be able to have your family and everything else you want. I can give up a few businesses for that.”

It was true. There was no hiding it in the black diamond depths of his eyes. There were so many words struggling to get out that I couldn’t settle on what to say, pushing in front of Ivan to run to him instead.

“Oh, Arkadi,” I breathed.

“Oh, fuck this,” Ivan snapped, blocking me with his arm as his other hand raised. There was a familiar, spine-chilling click, and I saw his gun was up and aiming straight at Arkadi’s face. “You might not be able to see through that bullshit, but I can,” he said.

I grappled against the arm he had thrown across my chest, watching in horror as his finger twitched closer to the trigger. Screaming for Arkadi to get down, I broke free and flung myself in front of Ivan, just as the sound of the gun rang out.

Chapter 43 - Arkadi

Everything happened in a blur, but also like a nightmare in slow motion, where I couldn’t move fast enough. Was Mila actually putting herself in the line of a bullet? With a scream, she flung herself forward and came flying at me, and at the same time, the shot sounded. As she slammed into my chest with her arms wrapped tight around me, I twisted, yanking her behind me, trying to shield her with my own body, the same as she was so foolishly trying to do for me.

Pain ripped into my shoulder, sending me reeling. In a moment, I was heading toward the floor, dragging her with me. Feeling like my arm was being torn from the socket, I managed to turn so I wouldn’t crush her as I hit the tile hard, the air briefly knocked out of me, and dazed from the hot pain of the bullet that blew through my shoulder.

“Mila,” I grunted. “Stay down.”

Leave it to my wife not to listen to me again. Still screaming like a raging banshee, she was up in a second, hurtling herself at Ivan and roundhouse, kicking the gun out of his hand. Before I could fully marvel at that move I’d certainly never seen before, she was on him, fists flying, absolutely beating the shit out of him.

Ivan was being pretty loud, too, not wanting to hit her back, and shouting at her for being so stupid. For once, I wholeheartedly agreed with one of the Fokin brothers. While he was distracted, I gripped the gunshot wound to stop the flow of blood and pulled myself carefully over to where Mila had kicked the gun. It was a miracle the room wasn’t swarming with guards, but I had a feeling Ivan had warned them that they shouldn’t riskbursting in and harming Mila. Plus, I was sure he had intended to end me himself.

Once I had the gun, I got up and pulled her off her brother before she did some real damage. I thought I had seen her bloodthirsty side when we tortured my uncle together, but she was a ball of fury right now. As soon as she turned and realized I wasn’t dead, only keeping a low profile until the gun was in my possession, she stopped her attack and collapsed into my arms.

It hurt like hell, but I would have never complained. She didn’t hate me. She had jumped in front of a damn bullet for me. She was back where she belonged, almost. We were still in enemy territory. It was only when she began frantically searching me for where I got hit that she noticed I was holding Ivan’s gun on him.

“Arkadi!” she squeaked, shocking the hell out of me and digging her fingers into my fresh wound at the same time she wrested the gun from my other hand.

Stepping back from both of us, she waved it back and forth. Ivan jumped, cringing, while I stood silently, half proud, half confused about what in the hell was happening. My arm fucking stung from the way she got the drop on me, but I still had to struggle to hold back a smile. She was so damn amazing.

“I’ve had enough out of both of you,” she hissed, glancing at the door as if she had just begun wondering why no guards were helping out yet. Walking backward, she reached behind her and locked us into the room.

“Is she any good?” I asked Ivan under my breath.

He gave me a look that told me he was sorry his own aim wasn’t better. “She’s a crack shot.”

And with the look of rage on her face, neither one of us risked rushing her to regain the weapon. She stood well out of our reach, her finger in front of the trigger guard, ready to take one of us down if we so much as twitched in her direction.

“Mila,” I said, low and soothing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ivan shake his head as if this was the wrong way to go about being held hostage by my own wife. As if he knew her better than I did.

Maybe he did. She whipped the gun in my direction, blue eyes blazing fire. “Don’t try to calm me down after you went and let yourself get shot.”

“I wasn’t about to let you get shot,” I replied, glaring at Ivan. “This woman risked her life for me. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

He laughed bitterly, but stopped as soon as she turned the gun on him. “You actually pulled the trigger when you knew it might hit me,” she said, the pain in her voice enough to make me want to take a swing at him.

“Yeah, and I don’t know whether to be pissed off you jumped in front of the gun or sorry it didn’t hit him somewhere more deadly.”

“Of course, I’m not going to let you kill my husband. I’d be the one who was dead if Arkadi hadn’t turned and gotten hit instead,” she snapped right back.

He had the good grace to look abashed and showed enough intelligence for once to stay quiet. Good. I looked at Mila long and hard. Her face went through a series of emotions. Hurt, anger, and confusion. I wanted to erase them all, but there was no way as long as she was still pointing a gun at me.

I had never been very expressive, taught to keep whatever feelings I had well hidden. Anything other than icy fortitude could be considered weakness. It became such a habit that it almost seemed like I forgot how to have feelings, let alone show them. I showed them to her now, every last one. How sorry I was. How much I needed her.

Her face softened, and a bit of the rage cooled from her eyes. Not all, but it was a start. Holding out her hand to stop her brother from making any sudden movements, she lowered the gun and moved to my side. I wrapped her in an embrace, dropping a kiss on top of her head, never taking my eyes off of Ivan.

He eyed the gun that hung loosely in her hand, but made no move. Defeat was written all over his face, and from the looks of it, it tasted pretty sour.

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