Page 49 of Crimson Sin
The realization slams into me. Viktor wants me to be stolen, and Daniil eliminated. This entire confrontation isn't about capturing me. It's about removing the one obstacle standing between Viktor and what he sees as his prize.
“Naomi,” Daniil murmurs without looking at me. “When I move, you run. Straight to the SUV. Don't stop.”
My chest heaves as I struggle to process what's happening. “Daniil?—”
“Do it.”
Gunfire erupts like the end of the world. The late afternoon explodes in chaos as muzzle flashes light up the smoky air. Daniil shoves me hard, his strength sending me stumbling toward the waiting SUV as bullets tear through glass and steel around us. The sound is overwhelming, a roar of violence that seems to go on forever.
Lex fires beside me, each shot precise. Timur roars like a bear as he tackles one of Viktor's men, both crashing into the side of a car.
I throw myself into the SUV, my hands trembling so violently I can barely grip the seat. Daniil dives in after me, slamming the door a split second before a bullet splinters the glass where his head had been. The window blossoms into a spider web of cracks. Up front, Lex and Timur leap into their seats, their guns barking as they return fire on Viktor’s men.
“Go!” Daniil bellows to the driver.
The engine roars to life, and we race into traffic with violence that throws me against the seat. Tires scream against asphalt as we weave between civilian cars. The driver handles the massive vehicle with expert skill, threading through gaps that seem impossibly narrow. But headlights flare in the mirrors almost immediately. A black SUV swerves after us with a deadly purpose.
“Down!” Daniil yells, pushing me low as bullets slam into our rear window. The safety glass holds but fractures completely, obscuring our view.
The SUV jolts left, then right, the driver using every inch of available space to keep us ahead of our pursuers. Viktor is relentless, his engine snarling like a mechanical beast. Metal grinds against metal as his driver rams our side, the impact threatening to send us spinning out of control.
Daniil fires out the window, his muzzle flashing repeatedly. I grip the seat, my knuckles white with effort. Horns blare as civilian traffic scatters, drivers pulling to the side or speeding up to get out of our way. Some aren't fast enough, and I see minor collisions in our wake, adding to the chaos.
Another slam. The SUV jerks violently to the right, tires screaming as the driver fights to maintain control. My head smacks against the seat, stars bursting across my vision. The taste of blood fills my mouth where I've bitten my tongue. Daniil catches me immediately, steadying me against his chest as if the world isn't tearing apart around us.
“Stay with me,” he growls, his voice low and fierce. His arms tighten around me, creating a cocoon of safety in the middle of the storm.
Up ahead, a bridge looms against the darkening sky. Steel girders stretch like the bones of some massive creature, their shadows falling across the road in geometric patterns. Viktor’s SUV closes in on our right, while civilian cars clog the left, trapping us in a narrow lane. There's nowhere to go but forward, onto the bridge where we'll be even more exposed.
“Faster!” Daniil barks.
The driver floors it, the engine roaring with renewed power. But Viktor's SUV rams us again. I hear metal screaming against metal and feel the SUV shuddering with each impact. Sparks fly past the windows like deadly fireworks.
Through the window, I can see Viktor in the passenger seat. Even now his smile is cold and confident. His eyes lock on mine, and I can read his lips as he mouths a single word.
“Mine.”
Rage floods Daniil’s face, transforming his features into feral intensity. He raises his gun aiming at the driver. The shot is perfect, and the SUV veers off immediately, spinning across multiple lanes before slamming into the concrete median. Metal crunches and glass shatters in a shower of glittering fragments.
Silence crashes back into our vehicle like a body slam. Our SUV continues forward, the city finally opening ahead of us as we leave the bridge behind. Viktor's pursuit has been broken, his vehicle either destroyed or disabled. For now, we're safe. But men like Viktor don't give up easily, especially when they want something as badly as he wants me.
Daniil pulls me against him, my cheek pressed to the steady thud of his heartbeat. His shirt is damp with sweat, his breathing still elevated from the adrenaline of battle. But his arms around me are gentle and protective rather than possessive.
His voice is a rasp, low and deadly. “I have what I need to bury him, and I will. Viktor’s blood will be the foundation of my justice, and I will make sure his last sight on this earth is my face.”
His words should terrify me. They should send me running from this man who speaks so casually of violence and death. But all I can feel is the truth in them, and the absolute certainty that he means every word. And beneath that, the heat of his body around mine, anchoring me in the middle of the storm that has become my life.
17
DANIIL
The house is too quiet. Silence has a way of closing in on me, more suffocating than any threat Viktor could unleash. Naomi’s presence hums through the walls of this mansion even when I cannot see her, and yet my mind cannot rest. Every locked door, every shadowed corridor, feels like a warning that nothing stays buried forever. Especially not the past.
Her discovery unsettled me more than I want to admit. That locked room was never meant for her eyes. She didn't step inside or see what was waiting beyond, but she was close. The thought of her standing in front of that door fills me with a cold dread I can’t outrun. It is not just a room. It is a shrine. A confession carved in silence and painted in grief. The space holds everything I cannot voice, and everything I refuse to release.
I have walked past that door thousands of times since Sasha's death, and each time my hand hovers over the handle before falling away. The temptation to enter wars with the knowledge that opening it will unleash memories I am not strong enough to face. The room exists in perfect suspension, frozen in time.
Sasha still lives in that room. Her brushstrokes across canvas hang on walls that have never seen another soul since her funeral. Her handwriting in letters tucked away in a wooden box, words of love and dreams that will never come to pass. The faint perfume that lingers no matter how many years pass, as if the air refuses to forget her. My greatest sin is not that I loved her, but that I still keep her there preserved, untouchable, locked away like evidence of a crime I can never atone for.
