Page 53 of Dark Bratva Christmas
“Nikolai,” I greet him, rushing toward the car and popping open the door. “Must’ve been in the area.”
He eyes me, his icy blue eyes glinting. “You know I’m always in the area.”
“Yeah, okay,” I mutter, unamused. The two of us go way back to childhood as friends, though Nikolai’s father, Pahkan of the Sokolov family, was murdered when he was thirteen. The whole family fell apart and was lost to the Morokovs. He became the grimiest arms dealer around.
And is hardly reliable.
“It’s been a while,” Nikolai comments as he pulls away, already speeding toward the estate. “You only call me when it’s bad. I know you don’t like the association.”
“Hmm.” I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe. Just get me where I need to go.”
He chuckles. “Got it.”
My old friend makes the fifteen-minute drive in eight, and before we even reach the driveway, I can see that everything is all wrong. The automatic gate is left open, and the entire place appears desolate.
“This isn’t good,” Nik mumbles under his breath as he rolls through the circle drive, stopping outside the front doors. “You usually have men posted everywhere.”
I nod, my stomach already clenching at what I see. “That’s because they’re out.” I gesture to the corner of the yard. One of my guards has a bullet hole right between his eyes, slumped up against the stone veneer of the house.
And when the imagereallyhits,thatis when the panic sets in.
Catarina. Holy fuck, Catarina!
I’m out of the car, Glock in hand, before Nik even realizes what I’m doing, scrambling to keep up. He grabs an AK from behind his front seat and follows behind me.
I guess some loyalties do run deeper than the ties that bind and loosen.
“Catarina!” I shout through the empty halls of the house, the silence deafening. We step around two more bodies, one of them being Ivan.
My heart pounds in my temple as the panic turns to fear, and the quiet in the house only serves to exacerbate it all. I remember the feeling when Mikhail died. I remember the promise I made him. But even that inkling of the pain I’d feel losing Catarina and our child?
It’s ten thousand times stronger. And as I sprint up the stairs to check my wife’s room, I realize I don’teverwant to let her sleep anywhere other than beside me ever again. She’s more thanjustmine.
She’s a part of my very fucking soul.
As I swing the bedroom door open and see the chaos of overturned dressers and the flipped mattress, my heart fucking sinks and my hands start to shake.
Maybe she made it out. She could’ve made it out.
“Matysh,” Nikolai’s voice explodes through the house, commanding my attention in a way that makes me feel sick.
“Yeah?” I race back down the stairs to find Nikolai standing at the patio door, his eyes out across the gardens.
“Bogdin.” He raises a hand, gesturing to a body in the garden.
My throat tightens at one of my best men, laying in the snowy path. I race out the door, the disbelief settling into my body.
I thought I was untouchable. I thought I had this. How did they get me in such a weak spot?
I get to his body and push away the trickle of grief that follows it. I’ve seen too much blood to be swayed by a dead man. A woman and child? That’s different.
But this is just another day.
“His phone,” Nik says, sweeping something up off the ground. “Oh fuck.Fuck.” He lets out a heavy breath, his eyes on the cracked screen.
“What?” I demand. “What the hell is it?”
He frowns up at me. “He was with your lady. His mid-text back to you states he was out here with her on a walk.”
