Chapter 51
Mikhail
Cassio’s brows contort in deep confusion, and I see the final expression he’ll ever make morph into pungent fear as the woman I love digs the barrel of her gun into the back of his skull.
“You will never hurt him ever again,” she rasps, just as she makes good on her promise, pressing the trigger with a definitive click.
The bang of the weapon sounds off into the quiet room.
Just like that, my blood-sworn enemy, the man who has caused my entire Bratva a decade of pain and grief, falls to the floor in a non-functioning pile of flesh and blood.
I barely even notice.
Because all of my attention is focused on the sight of my Menace, coated in blood and flying back through the air, a warrior’s expression engraved on her face.
I’m crawling through the blood before she even hits the ground, clambering after her like a man praying on his knees. Once I reach her, I throw my body over hers, shielding her from the final bullets firing through the air.
A shadow emerges in my periphery, nearing the thundering chaos. My fingers wrap around the weapon clutched in Cass’s fingers, pulling it into my raising grip.
Two efficient shots unload from the gun, the kickback absorbing into my tensed bicep. A thud hits the ground, the scent of gunpowder seeping into the air. I scan the area for any additional threats before checking on Cass.
Sweet fingers grip the strands of my hair, urging me lower.
Her forehead presses to mine in the softest caress, and the cool, grimy cement digs into my braced elbows. Her breaths absorb into mine, tickling my cheeks. Rogue droplets composed of sweat and blood drip from the stinging wounds on my face down to her cheeks.
Another shot sounds off, and her eyelashes flutter open. We don’t say a word as we stay in that clenched embrace, grasping onto each other with tight grips and clawed nails, just to remind ourselves we’re still here.
An eerie silence settles over the humid air, confirming my team has finished dealing with the threats, and I take the opportunity to collapse, burying my face into her soft, brown curls.
The copper sting of blood dominates the oxygen in the room, but I can still smell the sweet, singular scent of Cassandra, so uniquely woven into each strand.
When her arms reach to circle my neck, I bend back up, using my thumb to brush splatters of blood from her pale cheek.
Pure joy overcomes me.
“When are you going to get tired of saving my sorry ass, Little Menace?”
Her torn lips crinkle in the sweetest smile, so at odds with the blood decorating her features.
“When are you gonna stop getting yourself into all this trouble?” she jokes softly, raising her finger to brush my hair from my brow in a gentle stroke.
I can hardly stop myself from diving into those lips like a man dying of thirst. I kiss her hard, tasting blood and dirt and her, only pulling back when we’re both choking on inhales, struggling to breathe.
Sitting up, I drag her into my lap, pressing her against me like she’ll vanish the second I let go. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever manage to let her go again.
Eventually, we both turn our gaze to the surroundings, inspecting the carnage left behind in the room.
My gaze searches intensely for one specific face, and my shoulders heave in a grateful breath when I locate who I’m looking for.
Ivan sits against the far wall, exhaustion leaking from his features.
Andrei’s steps thunder down the wooden stairs among the rest of the primary hit team, checking bodies to make sure there are no survivors.
Sudden pain causes me to groan out as Cassandra twists in my lap before scrambling to her feet. Sure as fuck not ready to let go of her, I struggle after her, heart stuttering when I realize where she’s headed.
Cass rushes through the maze of gore and bodies and throws herself to the floor beside my old friend.
Ivan looks up at her, a flicker of protectiveness blazing through his gaze.
I examine the interaction with genuine curiosity, watching as she starts searching his body for injuries.
At some point, these two developed a close, real connection, obvious by the way they interact with one another.
Rather than feeling an abrupt rush of jealousy, I find steady solace in the fact that the two most important people in my life want to take care of each other. My cheek twitches with a smile.
“Mikhail, he looks even worse than you do. We need to get the two of you to a hospital, stat.” Cassandra beckons me closer, still searching his chest for larger wounds. The adorable order reminds me of the night she came into my life, all those months ago.
My girl is so bossy.
Even through his swollen features, Ivan’s playful smile matches mine for a moment before his gaze turns serious.
“I’m so sorry, Mikhail. I had no fucking clue—”
I cut him off, coming closer to the pair and wrapping one of my arms around Cassandra’s waist. “None of us knew. And as far as I’m concerned, everything he did?
It changes nothing between you and me. We’re brothers.
Blood or not.” I say, grabbing onto his shoulder with my other arm.
Ivan nods his head sternly, so many emotions welling up in that complicated look.
“He didn’t deserve you,” Cassandra says, burying Ivan in a tight hug. The three of us linger there for a moment, taking the time to appreciate the new bedrock formation of our unique family.
“Okay,” I say, clearing my throat. “You heard the girl. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The three of us stretch up, stepping over the scattering of limbs on the ground.
My arm stays wrapped around Cass all the way up the stairs, her waist a steadying presence through my already blurring vision.
When we emerge from the shadowed cave of the lower level, we find ourselves in a decaying, wooden cabin, the harsh glow of moonlight piercing through open windows.
I begin ushering Cassandra toward the collection of SUVs parked out front, but all three of us stop short at the final body littering the scene. Collapsed beside the doorway, Lev’s lifeless body lies across the threshold, a single bullet piercing through the pale expanse of his temple.
Shoving down my own spawning emotions, I watch carefully as Ivan bends down to squat next to his brother.
The sight is like a macabre mirror, one twin alive and breathing, the other little more than food for the worms. Ivan’s wandering hand reaches up to Lev’s face, hovering at his brow before gently closing those dull, green eyes.
“You okay, brother?” I ask, resting my hand on his back in silent support.
Ivan looks up, nodding and rising to his feet. After a few heavy minutes of silence, we continue our descent back to the cars, all knowing the extent of the lie within the small gesture. It will be a long time before he’ll ever be “okay” again.