Page 53 of The Enemy's Defector
“Anton will never allow this,” a Kozlov said.
“Fuck him,” Katerina yelled, shooting in the direction of where that man darted back behind a bookcase.
“You’re dead, Katerina!” another called out. “If you leave now and come with us?—”
“No!” I shot the man in the head, watching him fall. More gunfire followed, but we weren’t hit.
“My wife is leaving with me,” I announced. “Be sure to pass the message along to your bosses. Katerina is an Ivanov now.”
Two more men stepped out from cover and fired at us, but I killed them both, riding on the victory of announcing this news and also that I’d done it.
I’d married her against all odds.
Shewasmine.
Now and forever.
And as soon as we got out of here, I would start showing her the full extent of my protection and concern for her and our baby.
Hopefully, we could reach a single second of peace where I could let her understand that I’d loved her all my life and couldn’t wait to love her for the rest of it too.
23
KATERINA
Wife.
Hearing Nik refer to me as his wife was a poignant moment.
Then listening to the firmness in his declaration that I was an Ivanov was something else entirely.
It sank in with an utter weight of seriousness, convincing me that for better or worse, I’d made my choice to marry him. I couldn’t take it back. I didn’t want to take it back.
But once we neared the end of this unexpected fight from yet another ambush, I willed my heart to calm down so I could brace myself for what would come next.
The assassins retreated, backing up out of the apartment. Between the Kozlov soldiers loyal to my uncle and the Romanos who’d participated in the effort to stop me from marrying Nikolai, they seemed to come to their senses that they wouldn’t win.
They’d outnumbered us in the beginning. When I took the Ivanov officiant’s gun and the wounded Ivanov soldier stood back up to keep shooting after he’d taken a bullet, we proved that we would not be killed or stopped. The wedding had alreadyhappened. Maybe that was all it took for these assholes to leave. They’d failed to stop me from marrying Nik. Now, as they ran away, I imagined they were impatient to bring the news to my uncle and Dominic Romano.
Dust settled from the damage in the apartment, but between the two soldiers who’d come likely to be the witnesses to the wedding, things would be under control.
“Go ahead,” the first soldier told Nik. “I’ve got another crew coming.”
He probably meant a crew for backup and to clean up. The officiant was barely alive, but in case he passed away, they’d all team up to handle the damage and mess without involving the local law enforcement. Cops didn’t need to bother here.
Instead of lingering, the wounded soldier led us down to the car he had waiting out back.
“Go on. Get in,” Nik ordered once we reached the car.
“No. I insist.” The wounded soldier hissed in pain as he reached for the door handle to the driver’s door.
“Peter,” Nik said with a tired sigh. “No. You’re shot, and I’m not going to have you drive us and pass out at the wheel.”
I nodded, gesturing for him to get in the back with me.
He eyed me warily, still skeptical.
“You heard him,” I quipped. “I’m an Ivanov now.”
