Page 48 of Crimson Sin
“Replica,” Daniil responds, his voice low. “But appearances matter.”
There's something in his tone that makes me look at him more closely. The way he watches me study the piece, and the slight tension around his eyes. I'm beginning to understand that with Daniil, very little is exactly as it appears. Before I can respond or ask him about the original, Lex's voice cuts through the air.
“We have to move. Now.”
The change in Daniil is instantaneous. His shoulders stiffen, every muscle in his body going taut. The businessman facade drops away, replaced by thepakhan. “Explain.”
“Convoy trailing us. Three SUVs. Viktor's formation.”
Cold floods my veins, making my hands shake. Daniil's hand clamps around mine, locking me into the moment. His grip is firm but not painful, protective rather than possessive. “Stay behind me,” he orders.
Then the building shudders. A blast rocks the street below, the sound rolling through the glass and steel like thunder. The windows vibrate in their frames. Alarms begin to shriek, their electronic wails mixing with the sound of car horns and screaming from the street. Smoke curls past the glass windows, dark and acrid.
Daniil yanks me against his chest, his body becoming a shield between me and whatever danger is approaching. I can feel the steady beat of his heart. His arms wrap around me, one hand pressing my head against his shoulder while the other reaches for his gun.
“Lex, Timur,” he barks, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Perimeter. Get her out.”
The next few minutes blur together in a nightmare of sound and motion. We run toward the stairwell, but the elevator bank explodes in a shower of sparks and debris. The stairwell door slams open, and men rush in, weapons raised, faces hard with purpose.
“Down!” Daniil barks, pushing me against the wall as he raises his gun. His body covers mine, protecting me from the chaos erupting around us. The first gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space. My ears ring, the sound seeming to bounce off every surface.
Bullets crack the metal railing, sending sparks flying in all directions. The smell of gunpowder fills the air. Lex and Timur throw themselves into the fray. One attacker stumbles back, clutching his arm where Lex's bullet found its mark. Blood seeps between his fingers, dark against his tactical gear.
Another loses his weapon as Timur smashes him against the concrete wall with bone-jarring force. The man's head hits the wall with a sick thud, and he slides to the ground, unconscious or worse.
It isn't clean, it isn't quick. It's brutal, messy, and terrifying. The violence is raw and immediate, nothing like the sanitized action scenes in movies. These men are trying to kill each other, and the stakes couldn't be higher. Gunfire deafens me, and the air grows thick with smoke. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the air conditioning.
Daniil grips my wrist, his fingers warm and steady even in the chaos. He drags me forward as Lex elbows another attacker aside, the man's grunt of pain lost in the cacophony of violence. Every step toward the stairs feels like a victory, but I know we're far from safe.
“Go, go!” Lex snarls.
We barrel down the steps, taking them two and three at a time. My legs burn from the exertion, and my lungs struggle to process the smoke-filled air. A gunshot ricochets off the metal railingjust inches from Daniil’s face, the bullet sending up a shower of sparks and concrete chips. The sound is so close I can feel the vibration in my bones. I choke back a scream, fear threatening to overwhelm me completely.
Daniil doesn't stop or slow down. He pulls me against him, shielding me with his own body as we surge downward. I can feel the heat radiating from him. Lex covers us from behind, his weapon barking repeatedly as he holds off our pursuers.
By the time we hit the ground floor, my legs feel like jelly. Every muscle in my body aches from the tension and exertion. We crash through the emergency exit into the street. The late afternoon sun is obscured by thick black smoke. Flames lick hungrily from a burning car, the heat intense even from a distance. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline fills the air.
Civilians scream and scatter in all directions, some running blindly, others crouched behind whatever cover they can find. A woman in a business suit stumbles past us, her face streaked with soot, her eyes wide with shock. A man helps an elderly woman who has fallen, both moving as quickly as they can away from the chaos. Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder, but still too far away to help.
A black SUV screeches up beside us, its tires smoking from the sudden stop. Lex wrenches the door open, gesturing for us to get in quickly. But before we can move, another SUV swerves into place, blocking our path. I can see immediately that it doesn't belong to us. Men spill from it, their weapons drawn and faces hard with determination.
And then Viktor steps out.
Even in the middle of a war zone, he looks immaculate. His tailored suit doesn't have a wrinkle, and not a hair is out of place. The chaos around him might as well be a stage performance for all the effect it has on his composure. His smile is slow and cruel as his eyes find me across the smoky distance. There's something almost reptilian about his cold gaze.
“Well, cousin,” he calls, his voice clear even over the noise of sirens and shouting. His tone is smooth and mocking, as if this entire situation amuses him. “You paraded her into my streets. Did you think I wouldn't come?”
Daniil pushes me behind him, his stance becoming immovable. Every line of his body radiates lethal intent. His gun is steady in his hand, his voice so calm. “You'll die before you touch her.”
Viktor chuckles, the sound freezing the air in my lungs. His eyes glitter with malicious amusement. “Oh, I don't want her harmed. She's far too precious for that. But she belongs withme, Daniil. Not you.” His gaze slices into me, sharp as broken glass. “You can feel it, Naomi. He cages you. I wouldworshipyou.”
My throat tightens, as panic seizes me. There's something in Viktor's voice, a hunger that goes beyond simple desire. He doesn't just want me. He wants to possess me completely and use me as a weapon against his cousin.
“You're a fool,” Daniil snaps, his control finally cracking. “She belongs to me.”
The words should anger me, and make me want to correct him, but at this moment, they feel like a shield. His claim isn't about ownership. It's about protection and the lengths he'll go to keep me safe.
Viktor tilts his head, studying his cousin with the detached interest of a scientist examining a specimen. “Mine too, in time. But first...” His hand lifts in a casual gesture, and his men raise their weapons. Not at me. At Daniil.
