Page 3 of Dark Bratva Christmas
“We know this is...unorthodoxto say the least. But we can't tell you how much we appreciate your support,” Catarina adds, her voice cracking as she holds a hand to her chest and stares out at everybody on the dance floor with a warm smile. “It means the world to us.”
Uh huh, okay.I have to bite back a smirk. This whole thing is fucking ludicrous.
My brother takes back the mic. “When I met this woman, my entire world changed. I know this is a brand new chapter for not only us, but everybody here tonight.” Mikhail gestures with his hands, highlighting the two sides of the room filled with Petrovs and Volkovs, most still not mingling with one another. “With our marriage, there can finally be peace.”
“With that being said, it’s time for the final piece.” Catarina smiles, looking out at the crowd and expecting cheers. She gets very little, and for a moment—a split moment—her smile falters.
“I've got the certificate,” Boris Petrov speaks up, his voice booming across the ballroom.
Catarina hurries off the stage, making her way toward her father. However, I watch Mikhail as he stares at her, his eyes watching her with both admiration and a protectiveness I've never seen from him before.
And then the floor subtly shakes beneath my feet.
What the…
But I can’t finish my thought as the glass behind Mikhail shatters, and he whips his head around just in time to be sent flying backward as the explosion blasts through the room.
I feel the force of it threatening to knock me off my feet, but I’m too far back to be downed. The crowd in front of me starts to scatter toward the exit, and I fight against the flow, rushing in the opposite direction.
All I care about is getting to my brother, who lays in a heap on the fucking floor.
I don’t register the bodies of the other people standing close to the stage, the band members on the ground by their instruments, groaning and limp on the floor. The only thing I see is Mikhail.
I hear screaming around me, but it's muffled, unintelligible.
“Mikhail!” I shout, landing on the ground beside him, glass digging into my knees as I turn his face to look at me. His eyes are fluttering shut, his mouth parted as he mumbles something under his breath.
“Stay with me!” I slap his cheek to keep his eyes open, my chest growing tight. “Don’t you fucking die,huylo(dickhead).”
Ican'tlose him. I can lose anyone else, but not him. Not my brother.
I try to lift him up, but he groans, fighting against me.
“Stop,” Mikhail grits, his voice breathy with pain as his arm flies toward his abdomen. It's then that I look down and see it. Wedged in the center of his chest is a large piece of metal, a wallsupport of some sort. Blood oozes from the wound and pools on the tile floor underneath him.
I’m losing him.
And it’shergoddamn fault, for luring him in on the promise of love.
The wind howls through the broken glass, and a haze of snow blows in and lands on Mikhail’s face.
And suddenly, IhateCatarina Petrov.
Mikhail closes his eyes with a sharp wince, his chin quivering. When he looks back at me, I see the fear in his eyes, and it shatters something inside me. My little brother, whom I’ve defended all my life with my words, my position, and, literally, my body, is bleeding out.
“No...Ne ukhodi ot menya(Don’t leave me).”
“Matysh,” Mikhail whispers, his hand gripping my arm with as much strength as he can muster. “Take care of her. Please.”
I shake my head, anger rolling through my body. “No. I won't have to because you're going to. And she caused this. She lured you in—”
“Shut up,” he cuts me off with a pained growl. “Listen to me.Obeshchay mne, brat, chto budesh' khranit' yeyo kak sem'yu(Promise me, brother, that you will protect her like family).”
I fucking hate her, but even still, I don't think about the consequences of what I'm saying as my brother lies in my arms, taking his last breath. If his dying wish is for me to protect the woman, so be it.
“Obeshcháyu(I promise).”
Chapter one
