Page 42 of Crimson Wrath

That I’d bow down and play nice?

He sways a little, clutching a hand over the wound in his breastbone. I don’t waste more time. I grab the front of his shirt and start shoving him backward. Behind him, the dark void of the pit looms, an unmissable target.

“Anton, wait—” he chokes out. But the time for listening is over. Several broad strides bring us both to the edge of the deep, cement-filled hole. We lock eyes for one moment that lasts an eternity. An eternity in which I pour every ounce of hate I have into him.

“I waited long enough,pizdet,” I spit into his face. He doesn’t get a chance to respond. With a violent shove, I send him toppling into the sea of wet concrete.

And the motherfucker sinks.

The last image I get of him is of his eyes clouded with terror as the thick fluid closes over his face. His screams echo in my ears as he sinks into the cement - a fitting end for a man who killed too many the same way.

Do svidaniya, mudak.

Retribution courses through my veins, hot and satisfying, as I stare into the eyes of my fallen enemy. It only takes a few seconds for the cement swallows up his limp body, never to be seen again.

“Anton!” Scarlett rushes up next to me, and I feel myself grow warm as she wraps her arm around my waist, her touch both electrifying and comforting. “Oh my God, Anton!” Her deep dark eyes search my face, pleading for reassurance.

“Job’s done.” The single word falls from my lips, a declaration of victory.

But there’s no time to savor it.

Where is Nikolai?

The gunfire that had surrounded us has died down to a silence that’s almost as deafening. Without their leader, Volkov’s men are standing around looking stupefied.

“Go on! Get the fuck out of here!” I hear Luka call in an act of uncharacteristic mercy. Footsteps scurry as the remaining men lower their weapons and start clearing the area, stepping over battered corpses - some are Volkov’s men, some our own.

But I’m not paying attention to them. My heart pounds in my chest as I scan the shadows.

“Niko?” I shout. “Nikolai!”

Dear Lord, if anything has happened to him…

Anythingmore!What that child has been through…

“I saw him get out, Anton.” It’s Scarlett again. “He slipped the cuffs and climbed up the wall.”

“Nikolai!” I call again. “Nikolai, vse v poryadke, synok. Vykhodi seychas.” God, I hope he hears me and trusts me when I tell him it’s safe. I’ve already let him down once tonight. Probably more.

“Papa!” A small voice pierces the night air, followed by a small shape emerging from the darkness, stepping hesitantly toward us.

A sense of relief washes over me.

“Bozhe moy, Niko!” I rush to his side, Scarlett along with me, our faces flooded with gratitude as we finally embrace him. It takes me a moment to pull back and run an eye over him. He’s bruised, battered, filthy, but alive nonetheless.

Motherfucking Volkov.

Though if I could drag him out of his cold, wet grave, I’d tear him apart all over again for what he did to my boy.

“Niko! Are you okay?” Scarlett’s voice is gentle and laced with concern as she brushes a strand of hair from his face.

I feel the rage inside me simmer down for a moment, replaced by a strong feeling of gratitude for this woman who put her own life on the line to save my boy. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close, feeling her warmth against me.

Nikolai nods, his eyes flicking between Scarlett and me.

In a moment of overwhelming relief, I pull the pair of them firmly against my chest, pressing my lips to Nikolai’s forehead and then brushing them over Scarlett’s cheek.

My Zayka…

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