Page 40 of The Bratva Contract
“I know, right? Ingrid was the same way last year, blew up my phone like it was her job. A man needs breathing space. Anyway, I get it now, brother. I’m sorry I went behind your back. I needed cash because the ponies were running against me a couple years ago. Had to cover my bets, you know?” he says, trying for humble. As if any of this excuses violating the bratva’s oath, betraying me, and striking my wife.
“You could’ve come to me,” I tell him.
“I know, but I was embarrassed. I got carried away, like always, and ended up owing a fortune to the shitbag Kozlov syndicate, her dad’s outfit.” He snorts, as if it’s their fault he lacks self-control. “I’m sorry, old friend. Let me do you a favor to prove it. I’ll kill her for you, then we can grab a drink. My guys, our guys, will clean up the mess.”
I nod. “You’ve got yourself a deal, brother,” I say, baring a rictus grin.
“You wanna take turns on her before I kill her, or just get it over with?” he offers. “We can leave her tied up so she doesn’t scratch us.”
“I’m thirsty. I want a bottle from the vault behind the bar, so let’s make it quick,” I say, sounding magnanimous. He nods eagerly and hands my gun back.
“Sorry about that. I should’ve trusted—” he starts.
Without hesitation, I put a bullet between his eyes before he can finish. For an instant Piotr looks stunned, then falls forward as I step back. I kick him heavily in the side as I walk past to free Karina.
My men take the cue and dispatch the thugs who backed him. Amid the carnage, rust-tinged air and dying groans, I snap the cable ties on my wife’s wrists and pull her into my arms. She lets out a single sob before stepping back.
“You okay?” I ask, scanning her face.
“I really have to pee,” she blurts, laughing on the ragged edge of hysteria.
“I’ll take you somewhere else,” I say, glancing at the slaughter around us.
“No, it’ll just take a second. I really can’t wait.”
She breaks for the bathroom and comes back in a minute shaking her head. “The sink is gold. The faucet’s a fucking swan. You won’t believe this shithole.”
“I’ve been here before,” I say, deadpan. “Thinking of buying it just so I can burn it down.”
She reaches for my hand, but I shake my head. “Come here,” I order, and to my surprise she obeys.
I bend, scoop her into my arms, and carry her through the ruined doorway to the elevator. “I’m not putting you down until we’re home,” I tell her. “If anything happened to you?—”
“It didn’t. You didn’t let him hurt me,” she says, voice steady. “I knew you’d come.”
“You better know by now I’d come for you. Always.”
“That’s sweet and all, but can you just keep me from getting kidnapped next time?” she teases.
“You’re just pissed I called your tits fake,” I tease back, reveling in how right she feels in my arms.
“They’re not.”
“Of course not. But he didn’t deserve to know that. I’m so sorry he ever laid a hand on you, Karinka.”
“You’ll just have to make it up to me.”
“I will. I promise. I’m so proud of you.”
“For scheduling the email? Or leaving the clue?”
“For holding back when you were dying to tell him he was an idiot with bad taste in hotels and worse taste in life choices.”
“That’s so much nicer than what I wanted to say, believe me. But I wanted to get home to you more than I wanted to insult him.”
“That’s a pretty strong declaration of love from you,” I say.
“It actually is.” She smiles. “But don’t think it means I won’t roast you every chance I get for all the shit you said about me.”
