Page 15 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it's our house? And here I thought it was a prison, since I was fucking locked up!”
“If you'd stop trying to run all the damn time, maybe I wouldn't have to lock you in, Vera!”
“I'm not fucking Vera, you delusional psycho! My name is Katya! And I'm not going back to your house with you! I'd prefer to die out here than be some sort of object in your possession!”
I was done with Vera’s condescending tone. She’d learn to speak to me with respect, even if I had to break her down to rebuild her from the ground up.
I’d been patient. Merciful, even. But I had limits. And she was dancing on the edge of every single one.
She was my wife. That meant something as a Bratva leader. She didn’t just carry my name, she reflected it. And right now, that reflection was an insult.
And insults weren't something I condoned.
I was about to snap back when I caught movement, first to my right, then to my left. My instincts kicked in too late. I’d been too focused on her.
Shit.
Men emerged from the shadows between the buildings, guns raised. At least half a dozen.
None of them said a word.
Then a shot rang out.
They weren’t here to talk. They came to send a message. And the message was written on a bullet.
Chapter 6 - Katya
My heart pounded wildly. One moment, I was arguing with Lev, trying to break free of his grip, and the next, I was staring down the barrels of guns.
This was it. I was going to die.
I did say I would've preferred to die out here than go back with him, but I swear I didn't mean it.
Time seemed to freeze as the first shot rang out, the bullet barreling straight for my chest. A delayed scream tore from my throat when Lev yanked me by the waist, dragging us out of its path. He was already firing back, somehow managing to get us both around the corner and into cover.
“Stay down!” he barked, peeking around the corner before returning fire.
Immediately, I curled into a ball, on the ground behind Lev as gunfire erupted. The stench of the nearby dumpster and the sticky film clinging to my arms churned my stomach with nausea.
God. I should’ve just stayed at his house. At least there, no one was trying to kill me. I tried to drown out what was happening by thinking about well…anything, but my mind was frozen.
“Shit,” I heard Lev mutter.
I glanced up at him just as he turned behind us and fired three more rounds in the opposite direction.
“Vera, get up, we’ve gotta move! Now!”
My body moved before my brain caught up, scrambling to its feet. Lev pressed himself against me, shielding me withhis body. I slid along the wall behind him as he fired in both directions, his free hand firm against my hip.
The warmth of his body trickled into mine, and I involuntarily shivered at his touch. He must’ve thought it was from fear, because his hold tightened just a bit, burning through the denim of my jeans.
I couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled after a long day, a mix of faint perspiration and the lingering spice of his cologne. And suddenly, I wanted his hand on more than just my hip.
I wanted to grab his jacket, to pull him closer, because clearly, I must’ve lost my damn mind as I watched his muscles ripple under his jacket as he protected us.
Maybe I was in a dream.
Maybe he was my fantasy.
