Page 49 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
Oh my god. I looked around, wondering if there was a wall to scale or a door leading to somewhere else. But I saw nothing.
The panic clawed at my chest, making my vision hazy. I thought I might pass out.
And then, they were standing right before me.
The one in front smiled, his teeth gleaming like a ghost’s.
“Mrs. Lebedev,” he hissed. “You’re causing quite the commotion tonight.”
“Stay back,” I warned, though my voice trembled. “I don’t know who you are—”
“But we know who you are.” He took another step closer.
“Please, just leave me be,” I said, literally cowering against the wall. “There’s been a mistake.”
The man laughed. “No mistake. You’re the latest Lebedev bride. And your husband will give us whatever we want to get you back.”
Who the fuck was my husband involved with? Whatever it was, he’d led trouble straight to my door. I felt tears rush down my cheeks. How stupid was I to have thought this marriage could save me from ruin when it was proving to be the end of me?
The man reached for me, and I mentally prepared myself to kick, scratch, bite—anything—when the night exploded.
The first man’s head jerked back as a bullet hit him through the head. He dropped dead before I could even process what happened.
The other two spun, reaching for their weapons, but it was too late.
Federico stepped into view with his gun raised. Two more shots, so fast they sounded like one continuous blast. The men fell, one after another, hitting the ground with sickening sounds.
And Federico—my husband—didn’t even look shocked.
With his gun still raised, he walked toward me, but his eyes darted all around, looking for others.
Who was he? This wasn’t the man who looked at me like I could be his world. This wasn’t the man who held open doors. He looked like a man with no conscience.
He finally looked at me, and then I saw the man I remembered. His brows furrowed with concern, his eyes lit up with relief.
“Are you hurt?” he asked softly as he quickly moved to me, visually checking me for injuries.
I pressed harder against the wall, unable to speak. My whole body trembled uncontrollably.
“Autumn,” he said, softer now. “We need to go. Right now. There could be more.”
I stared at the bodies on the ground. Three men. Alive seconds ago. Now nothing.
“You killed them,” I whispered.
“They were going to take you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
I felt sick.
“Autumn,” Federico’s voice was urgent now. “We need to leave.Please. I might not be able to fight our way out if more come.”
More. There could be more. There could be more fighting, and I would have to witness more deaths.
I couldn’t stay here, surrounded by dead men in a dead-end alley. When his hand touched my arm, I flinched but didn’t pull away.
Federico led me back through the maze of buildings, keeping me close, his body partially shielding mine as we moved. One hand held his gun at the ready; the other kept a firm grip on my arm.
We reached his SUV, and the driver waited inside with the engine running.
