Chapter Sixteen
Dead Man’s Hand
Willow
C haos erupts the moment I leave Bogdon’s side. Dima is somewhere among the crowd, ready to fulfill his part in this insanity but I’m not worried about that. What does worry me is the shrill alarm screaming like a damn banshee and the guards erupting from every corner of Kirrill’s mansion.
“Go!” Bogdon appears out of nowhere and shouts over the alarm. He grabs the fine, decorative chain between my display manacles, and rips downward.
The chain dangles in twin pieces, the precious metal twisted and bent, but I don’t spare the jewelry a second glance.
I don’t have to be told twice as I slip between the gathered guests.
I watch the faces around me, seeing irritation, curiosity, and fear.
A tall blond man watches me with a smile before stepping into my path. He is dressed in black from top to toe.
“Where are you going, dikaya koshka ?” he asks, revealing his Bratva ties.
“If you know who I am, then you know my purpose.”
“ Da . I am to escort you. Keep you safe.” He gestures for me to lead the way.
“Gun?”
He presses a Magnum 9mm into my palm as I walk past him before falling in step behind me.
We walk down one corridor before taking the next.
People rush past us, young women scurrying to find a hiding place while men who think themselves God’s own find out they are not nearly as powerful as they wish.
A gunshot rings through the bowels of this palatial monstrosity and I know our time is running out.
A man wearing an earpiece steps out of a room, a large semi-automatic weapon slung over his shoulder. I don’t hesitate. Lifting the gun from my side, I pull the trigger. Thank God I am a good shot, hitting him between the eyes before he has a moment to contemplate what actions he should take.
“Fuck.” I hear the word cursed from behind me.
“What?” I glance over my shoulder.
“I was told the stories but never believed. You are definitely everything the people say.”
“Thank you?” I frown.
“It is a compliment.”
I shake my head before I continue down the hallway. I need to focus and remember the blueprints that I tried to commit to memory these past few days. To the left is a set of stairs and I take them two at a time. I wish I wasn’t wearing these ridiculous heels but at least I can walk in them.
At the top of the stairs, two men stand guarding a door on the left of yet another fucking hallway. I push the Russian behind me before slipping the gun behind my back.
“Stay.”
I undo three buttons on the outfit I am wearing, flashing my bra and cleavage as I step around the corner and out of the shadows. “Help me!” I call out, pulling tears from deep within myself.
I cast a fearful look at them before looking behind me. Purposefully, I stumble in my heels as I approach the nearest man who reaches out to steady me.
“My master has been shot. I ran.” Tears are flowing down my face now. “Please,” I beg. “They are killing people down there.”
As if I had planned the timing of this little speech perfectly, gunshots erupt below, echoing through the emptying building. My shoulders shake as the men look at one another. The other man glares at me, while the one holding me has his gaze glued to my tits. Men are so easy to manipulate.
“Please protect me,” I whisper, staring at the man whose hands are still on my shoulders. I step into his body, pressing my breasts to his chest. “I’ll do anything.”
His partner speaks rapidly in Russian, making the man frown before he answers. Slowly his hand slips from my shoulder to caress my breast through the fabric.
“I will help,” he mumbles.
“Thank you,” I say, adding a moan, and press my breast into his hand.
He releases me, grabbing my hand to lead me away. Once he has me inside a bedroom, he eagerly starts stripping off his clothes. I wonder if Kirrill knows that his men’s time and loyalty can be bought with some batted eyelashes and a set of tits. The thought makes me smile.
I undo the rest of the buttons, allowing the material to fall from my shoulders and expose the lace demi cups of my white bra. The man licks his lips as he stares at me, discarding his weapons to the ground.
I smile, feeling the butt of the gun against my palm. “Sorry about this,” I say, lifting the weapon and firing.
My first shot is shit, hitting him just below his throat because he moved. I shoot again, hitting him in the chest. It takes two more shots for the big man to fall to the floor. I take a moment to watch the life leave him as I fix my clothes and redo my buttons.
Once I am satisfied he is dead and I’m covered, I exit the room. The blond Russian stands over the body of the other guard, his life blood draining out of him quickly and staining what I assume is a pretty expensive carpet.
“Thank you,” I say, stepping over the dead man.
“You are fun to watch,” he says with a grin. “I don’t know other women like you.”
I stare at him and frown. “Like me?”
He nods. “Women think they are weak because men say so,” he explains, his Russian accent thick. “But you use everything that is supposed to make you weak as a weapon. Your beauty, sex appeal, and innocent look.”
“Another compliment?”
“Very much,” he replies with a chuckle.
“Let’s get this done,” I say, letting a smile spread over my face. “You can tell me how perfect I am later.”
“ Da, dikaya koshka .”
I push open the door to find a children’s bedroom, decorated in shades of purple, grey, and white. Where the hell is she? I look around the empty room, my heart falling into my shoes at the emptiness. I turn to leave before I hear a shuffle from the closet.
“You can come out,” I say loudly. “We aren’t here to hurt you.”
Long moments pass before the wooden door slowly starts to push open. My gaze stays locked, waiting for someone to burst out shooting but the shots never come. Instead, Noelle, the woman who cleaned me when I was held prisoner, stares up at me. A small crying child is cradled to her chest.
“Willow?”
I grin widely. “Told you I’d be back for revenge.” I hold out a hand for her to take, helping her to her feet. “Is this Hope?”
She nods, looking down at the little girl. One hand rubs soothing circles on her back. “Kirrill told me to watch over her. If I did my job well, I would be allowed to be her full-time caregiver and off limits to any men.”
I nod. “Come with me.”
“Where? There are men everywhere.” Her voice has gone up an octave and I know the thought of being caught trying to leave outweighs her need for freedom.
My new Russian friend steps forward. “Our people are taking care of the men. You will be safe with Willow.”
Her questioning gaze slams into mine. “Really?”
“My husband and the Bratva are working together to take out Kirrill,” I explain, squeezing her hand. “Before the end of this day, Kirrill will be dead and his empire will be nothing but ash.”
A small smile spreads across her lips as she nods and I lead her out of the room and toward our freedom.