Chapter 35
35
Two minutes earlier…
Leon
M y phone buzzes in my pocket. I ignore it and keep my eyes fixed on my wife, scanning occasionally for encroaching threats.
Every movement jangles my nerves. I’ve sat in wait for assassins a thousand times, but I’ve never felt this kind of pressure.
It’s because Emery matters in a way no one else ever has.
If I don’t stay frosty, I might see her die right in front of me. It could be paranoia, but I will follow her day and night until the end of time rather than risk her getting hurt.
I could call it in . Yeah, that seems fucking obvious now. I only have two eyes, but hundreds of men are available.
Surround this place, block every egress point, and flush out any would-be sniper.
I back up a little and take out my phone to call Viktor, but there’s a message from an unknown number. I curse and risk looking away from Emery for long enough to read it.
ALEC brIGHT SET YOU UP. THEY’RE COMING FOR HER.
What the fuck ? —
A flash of brightness catches my attention. It’s only there for a second, but the silvery color contrasts with the yellowish glow of the cafe lights.
It’s a rifle barrel. Over there, in an office window.
The guy isn’t far away, but I can’t shoot him from here. Even I can’t walk around with a long-distance weapon tucked up my sleeve, and my pistol lacks the necessary range.
Fuck the fucking High Line. Sniper’s wet dream, this place. A million vantage points, perfect visibility.
I hurl myself past the cafe patrons, their eyes following me as they realize something is wrong. Emery hears me calling to her and turns to face me, her emerald eyes wide with shock.
“Get down!” I yell as I approach.
She screams as I flip the table onto its side, pushing her and Alec to the ground behind it. The air splits as bullets gouge chunks out of the table, and I sprawl over Emery’s back, pinning her onto the dusty floor.
Alec has his hands over his head, whimpering as commotion erupts around us.
“What have you done?” I shout. “Alec, for fuck’s sake, tell me!”
“Dante came to see me shortly after your accountant guy left,” he says. “He said he’d deal with you if I could get Emery safely out of your way. When she called me, I saw an opportunity, but I didn’t know she?—”
“Leon!” Emery tries to buck me off, but I’m far too heavy, and her wriggling gets her nowhere. “What’s happening? Who’s shooting at us?”
The gunfire falls silent. I hear terrified sobbing and the sound of people scrambling to escape, but the shooter has no interest in them.
It’s clear this is a targeted hit.
“He’s shooting at me , val’kiriya ,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. “Whoever it is must have followed you here. They didn’t have the balls to tail me but knew damn well that a threat to you would draw me out.”
An eerie quiet is settling over the cafe now that the customers and staff have fled.
Someone is here, though. The crunch of boots over broken glass seems strangely loud, and it’s getting louder by the second.
Emery starts to cry in earnest, and I roll off her body and lie beside her.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, brushing her hair away from her tear-streaked face. “Do exactly what I tell you, and we’ll all get out of this in one piece.”
Alec suddenly speaks up. “Hey!” he shouts, addressing the gunman. “Dante made a deal with me. Let me and my daughter go!”
Our eyes meet, and I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “It’s worth a try, Leon. If he’ll be satisfied just to kill you, I can save her.”
“Dad!” Emery’s voice cracks as she speaks, hoarse from the dust in her throat. “No! Why would you even?—”
“He loves you, Em,” Alec says. “I see it, plain as day. This is how we get you out of this.”
I sigh. “Thanks for the change of heart, dear father-in-law, but you just gave away the fact that we’re all still alive. Any chance of you shutting the fuck up and leaving this to me?”
Alec looks crestfallen. I understand he was trying to help, but we wouldn’t be in this mess without him, and his back-seat driving is not appreciated.
“Toss your gun, Vasiliev,” a voice calls out. “I know you have one.”
“Fuck yourself,” I reply. “Any other suggestions? Because you won’t get a second chance to get this right, and if you’re as good a shot at close range as you are at distance, you’re about as likely to kill me as old age.”
“Very fucking funny.”
“Let Emery and her father leave,” I say. “Everything else is negotiable. If you so much as level your gun at my wife, you may as well put a bullet in your head to spare yourself the Hell I’ll put you through.”
I sit up and unsheath my spare pistol from the ankle holster, handing it silently to Alec. He stares at me, eyes imploring, but I ignore him.
Others could be looking for their chance to get in their boss’s good books, and I can’t let Emery and her father leave unarmed.
Alec puts the gun in his jacket pocket.
“Okay,” the shooter says. “All three of you stand up. Right now.”
I draw my primary gun and take Emery’s shaking hand in mine. Nodding at her and Alec, we get slowly to our feet.
Predictably, the would-be killer immediately trains his weapon on Emery, and the sight stirs a deep rage in my chest. I step in front of her, keeping hold of her hand, my gun raised and pointed straight at him.
“Oh, I get it. Fine, whatever.” He waves his gun at Emery. “Get out of here, you fat bitch, and take Daddy with you. Quickly, before I change my mind.”
Once she’s out of here, it’ll be down to me and this scumbag.
I’m the fucking bratva king, and there’s a good chance I’ll die out here. I mean, there’s no way I’m going down without taking this fucker out, but still, it’s pretty anticlimactic.
It’s true what they say; it only takes one man to make a difference.
I want to watch Emery as she goes. It may be the last time I set eyes on her, but I can’t afford to break my concentration.
If this piece of shit gets the drop on me, he might kill me and then go after my wife.
She’ll be okay. Viktor knows about this; he’ll get her out of the city, away from the war that will inevitably break out when news of my demise gets around.
If this is goodbye, I hope my wife knows I meant what I said. I loved her and always will.
I let go of her hand. “Leave with your father, moya zhena ,” I say.