Page 76 of The Bratva's Sextuplets
Another soldier falls to Tigran’s precise shooting, then another, until finally the gunfire stops and an eerie silence settles over our home. Through the smoke and cordite smell, Tigran maintains his position while scanning for remaining threats.
“Is that all of them?” I ask quietly.
“Not yet.” Tigran’s voice carries grim certainty. “Avgar’s still alive.”
As if summoned by his name, movement in the hallway reveals our primary enemy. Avgar Federoff steps into view, blood streaming from a wound on his forehead where shrapnel has cut him, his weapon trained on Tigran’s position. He’s older than his photographs suggested, with scars that speak to a lifetime of violence and eyes that burn with hatred focused specifically on destroying everything we love.
“Just you and me now, Belsky.” Avgar’s voice carries the satisfaction of a man who believes he’s finally achieved his goal. “Your men are dead, your defenses are broken, and your pregnant wife is about to watch you die before I kill her. I can live with swapping your death slots.”
“My wife is about to watch you die.” Tigran adjusts his aim without flinching. “She’s stronger than you think, and I’m better than you hoped.”
“We’ll see about that.” Avgar’s finger tightens on his trigger. “Your father thought he was better too, right before I had him killed.”
The revelation that Avgar was behind Nicky’s death as well as everything that followed makes Tigran stiffen. I can see the rage building in his expression, a fury that could make him careless at the worst possible moment. “He’s lying,” I say quickly. “Your father died of natural causes in the hospital.”
“Did he?” Avgar continues, clearly enjoying the psychological warfare. “I’ve been planning the destruction of your family for years. I paid a nurse to kill your father. Now, I’ve come for your wife, your unborn children, and you. When I’m done, the Belsky bloodline will be gone forever.”
“Maybe you killed my father. If so…I don’t care. I could have let that go, but you made a mistake.” Tigran’s voice remains deadly calm despite the rage I know he’s feeling.
“What mistake?” Avgar seems disappointed that Tigran is calm and didn’t overreact in fury at the thought he might have killed Nicky, which I still don’t believe. Why bother when Nicky was dying already?
“You threatened my family.” Tigran’s next shot is perfectly placed, catching Avgar in the shoulder and spinning him around. “Now you’re going to pay for every threat, every attack, and every moment of fear and pain you’ve caused the woman I love.”
Avgar staggers but doesn’t fall, his weapon still dangerous despite his wound. Blood flows freely from his shoulder, but his gaze remains focused and deadly as he tries to bring his gun to bear on Tigran’s position.
“Your children will grow up knowing their father was too weak to protect them.” Avgar’s voice carries vicious satisfaction even through his pain. “They’ll know their parents couldn’t save them from?—”
I don’t let him finish the threat against our unborn children. Moving on pure protective instinct that has nothing to do with training or practice, I rise from behind cover and fire before he can complete his aim. My shot catches him in the side of the neck, driving him backward against the hallway wall.
Tigran follows immediately with another shot that drops Avgar to his knees, but the man still isn’t finished. With his last breath, he looks directly at me with hatred that makes my skin crawl.
My shot didn’t hit his vocal cords unfortunately. “Your children will carry the stain of this violence for their entire lives.” His words are meant to haunt me, to plant doubt about the world we’re bringing them into. “They’ll grow up knowing their mother is a killer who?—”
I silence him permanently with a final shot through the forehead, delivered with frigid accuracy from the absolute commitment to protecting what matters most. Avgar Federoff collapses to the floor of our home, his hatred dying with him in the wreckage of his failed ambition.
The house falls completely silent except for the distant sound of sirens and the settling of damaged furniture. Through the broken windows, I can see dawn breaking over our estate, golden light illuminating the destruction that marks the end of our war.
“It’s over.” Tigran moves to check Avgar’s body, ensuring the threat is permanently ended before holstering his weapon. “The war is finally over.”
I remain behind my cover for several moments, staring at the man who spent months planning our destruction, who saw our love as weakness and our partnership as a flaw to exploit. He died without understanding that what we’ve built together made us stronger than anything he could bring against us.
“He was wrong about our children.” I rest my hand on my belly. “They won’t carry the stain of this violence. They’ll carry the legacy of parents who were willing to fight for them.”
“They’ll know their mother is the strongest person I’ve ever met.” Tigran moves to help me up from my protected position, his hands gentle despite the adrenaline still coursing through both of us. “They’ll know love is worth fighting for.”
As we stand together in the wreckage of our bedroom, surrounded by evidence of the battle that finally ended the Federoff threat, we’ve proven something fundamental about who we are and what we’ve built together. We’re not just survivors of violence. We’re people who can transform that violence into protection and use strength to create rather than destroy.
The cycle of revenge that might have continued through our children ends here. Our children will be born into peace because their parents loved each other enough to end a war. They’ll grow up knowing that real strength comes from protecting what you love, that true partnership can overcome any obstacle, and that some things are worth fighting for no matter the cost.
28
Tigran
The news travels faster than I expected. Within hours of the last Federoff soldier falling silent, my phone starts ringing with calls from contacts across three states who’ve heard about the battle at our estate. Word spreads through the criminal underworld with the efficiency of a well-oiled intelligence network, carrying details that become more dramatic with each retelling.
“Tigran, it’s Aden in Boston.” The first call comes while I’m coordinating with our surviving security team and emergency responders. “I’m hearing stories that sound too incredible to be true. Did your pregnant wife really kill Avgar Federoff herself?”
“She put the final shots in him to protect our children.” I see no point in diminishing what Zita accomplished. “She defended our family when it mattered most.”
