Page 100 of Bratva's Vow
“Please—” he wheezed, lifting his face. “Please wait. I know things. It’s not you. You got it wrong.”
I paused, breathing hard, fingers aching. “You better pray what you know is worth your life. ”
“I can tell you who—” Stone choked on blood and spat it out onto the floor. He raised his chin. “I can tell you who’s really behind?—”
A shot rang out, a hole buried in Stone’s skull, blood splattering my coat before I even registered the sound. His head jerked back, then sagged like someone snipped his strings.
We all froze.
For one beat.
Two.
“Fuck!” Nik barked, stumbling back.
“Door,” Darius snapped, gun drawn.
The door was swinging shut, metal hinges creaking.
Fucking hell. This was supposed to be the easy part, but we had a dead cop who swore he knew secrets and now no way to get them out of him.
Darius and Nik bolted. I stared at the lifeless body anchored to the chair in disgust.
Stone was dead.
After everything. After weeks of hunting him, he was dead. Not by my hand. Not on my terms. And that… that felt like something sharp digging into the back of my teeth.
I clenched my fists.
His body swayed slightly where it sat, bound and useless, head cocked to one side like a broken doll.
In a daze, I kicked the chair hard enough to send it crashing to the floor. His body hit the tiles with a sick thud, limbs tangled in the metal legs, blood spreading in a grotesque halo beneath his temple.
“Fuck!” I roared.
The echo bounced off the slick tiled walls and rolled back to me like a mockery.
“We should get you out of here,” Sergei said. “This location has been compromised.”
I didn’t budge.
“I need answers, Sergei,” I growled. “Who the fuck knew this spot? Who knew we’d bring him here when I found out half an hour ago?”
“We’ll figure it out. For now, let’s get you to safety first. Wren’s still waiting for you, isn’t he?”
Wren.
Sergei knew the right thing to say to get me to act. Scowling at him, I followed him out the door. We both had our guns drawn just in case. We hurried to his black sedan and got in. There was no sign of Nik and Darius. The car I’d arrived in was also gone.
The silence inside the vehicle was oppressive. No music. No chatter. Just the low hum of the engine and the sound of my blood pounding in my ears.
I didn’t speak.
Neither did Sergei.
He drove like always, controlled, steady, the wheel gripped in those big hands that had snapped men in half for less than what Stone had done. But I felt it in him. Tension, coiled tight and seething.
The spa wasn’t just any place. It wasourplace. Off-grid. Off-record. No cameras, no electronic footprints. The list of people who knew it existed was short, and most of them had been in that room tonight.
