Chapter 3
LIEV
“Quiet.”
The word comes out low, edged with steel, but the girl hears me. Her mouth snaps shut on a squeak, and she slaps bloodstained hands over her face, hiding all but her white-rimmed eyes.
My brows dive as I try to figure out what the fuck has happened.
Decide what the danger is.
It’s not her.
Despite the blood covering her hands and splattered on her legs and feet, it’s obvious she’s not a threat. Her wide, unblinking gaze tells me that, if she’s not already in shock, she will be soon.
There’s something oddly familiar about her. I take a step closer, my eyes cataloguing everything. Even in the weak alley light, the dirty bare feet and livid marks already rising on her neck tell me what I need to know.
My gaze goes first to Petyr Petrov’s bloody body and then jerks to my father lying in a pool of blood.
Fuck.
Did she fight them both off? What did they do to her?
A plaintive whimper reaches my ears, cutting off the anger welling in me. The desperate sound sends a pang of something through my chest… which surprises me. I’m not my cousin Alex with his white-knight kink.
A woman in trouble has never mattered more to me than a man. People are people, and I rarely care about any of them. My upbringing taught me that only family is worth bleeding for.
But my family—if not already dead—is rapidly bleeding out in this alley.
Good.
“Get back.” Her shaky voice snaps my attention back to her, and I realize I may have been too hasty in writing her off because her hands drop and her feet shift into what can only be described as a trained fighting stance.
Now that her hands are no longer covering most of her face, the sensation of familiarity hits me again. The smear of blood she’s left behind can’t hide the nasty scrape on her cheek or the swelling on the side of her head.
She’s clearly terrified, but she’s not giving up, and I fight the urge to smile.
I respect that.
I lift my hands, palms out. “Take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you.”
A pink tongue sneaks out to lick her lips as her jaw juts out. She doesn’t believe me. I don’t blame her.
But… why hasn’t she screamed? Not that the bouncers at the front of the club would hear her with the club music pulsing through the front door, but someone walking by might.
Her uninjured hand reaches up, and she shoves the heavy fall of dark hair off her face, giving me my first unobstructed view.
She’s beautiful—wounded, covered in blood and still not surrendering. There’s a warrior in this girl.
I scan her hazel eyes and bow-shaped mouth trying to decide what I can say to keep this from escalating. If I have to subdue her, I don’t want to hurt her further.
Her head tilts like she can’t figure out what I’m doing, and that’s when I see them… the web of scars tracing from her jaw up to her ear and down the delicate line of her throat.
Sera Worthington.
My gaze drops briefly to my father’s corpse. Suddenly the scene makes brutal sense. I knew she worked for her brother’s firm—Elite Security—but I’d assumed it was behind a desk.
I can hear Alex’s wife, Madison, lambasting me for the sexist assumption.
There’s a shift in the air, and I sense more than see her make the move to run.
Her eyes go past my shoulder to the opening of the alley behind me.
Her gaze flicks to the side, giving her thoughts away.
When her jaw hardens and she shifts her weight on her back leg, I realize she knows the door behind her is locked, as well as I do.
Her eyes glitter as adrenaline once again floods her system, and I have the stray thought she is going to have a hell of a headache tomorrow from the whiplash her adrenal system has taken tonight.
She’s preparing to fight her way out. And fuck if it’s not hot.
For one insane second, I think I might be in love.
Blyat. I’m not that fucked up.
I hope.
I shove the ridiculous thoughts away.
I’m not Alex, falling in love at first sight, especially in a dingy alley with dead bodies and with a bloody, traumatized woman.
And I don’t have time for anything but containing the massive fucking catastrophe in front of me.
My father—the most powerful vor in the Kovalyov Bratva—is lying face down in his own blood behind one of our clubs.
My father is dead.
And so is she.
The moment Mikhail—the pakhan—finds out.
There won’t be anywhere for her to hide.
My gaze sweeps over her again, catching the bruises, the scratches, the signs of a struggle. A black fury roars up so fast I have to clamp my teeth together to keep from stomping over and putting my boot through his ribs.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he tried to do to her.
But the pakhan and the rest of the Kovalyov Bratva won’t give a shit about self-defense.
Maybe it’s my lingering rage at him coloring my judgment… But I want to help her.
My mother’s swollen face, as it appeared an hour ago, flashes through my mind. Another set of haunted eyes. A lifetime of watching him break her in a hundred ways. The familiar lifelong rage spikes high and bright.
In a split second, I make the decision that the bastard isn’t worth Sera’s life. I’ll be damned if I let my father’s last act be destroying another innocent girl.
“Sera, right?” I keep my voice soft.
Her eyebrows twitch, a tiny, betraying movement at the fact I know her name.
I keep my hands away from my body, movements slow. I don’t want to startle her. We don’t have time for a full-blown panic spiral.
“We met last summer. At Elite Security.” I watch a faint tremor ripple along her arms. “I was there to help with the clean-up after your brother’s girlfriend was rescued.”
Her shoulders sag for half a heartbeat, then lock again. Her clenched fists float slightly higher, still ready to defend.
“Liev Kovalyov,” she rasps.
She remembers my name. It shouldn’t make me feel anything, but something in my chest loosens anyway.
“Looks like you’re having a bad night.”
Her mouth trembles, and her gaze darts over her shoulder to where my father and Petyr lie.
“He… he…” She swallows hard. The fight drains out of her, and in its place, I see something I hate—a hollow, defeated look. “I didn’t…”
Her eyes flicker, searching for some kind of exit that doesn’t exist.
Then she lets out a hiccupped giggle followed by another, even as her eyes grow luminous with tears.
“Sera.” I snap, and she bites her lip hard enough I’m worried she’s going to be bloody there, too.
She’s obviously on the verge of falling apart. I ignore the unfamiliar sensation inside my chest at her obvious distress.
“I don’t doubt my father deserved what you did and more. But we don’t have much time. We need to get him—and you—out of here before there are any witnesses.”
Her face crumples, and the horrified sound that tears from her—half gasp, half sob—rips something wide open inside me.
I never want to hear that raw, broken noise come from her lips ever again.
Damn it. Alex is contagious.
“Your father?” Her voice breaks on the word. She jolts as if she might bolt, and I talk fast.
“In name only.” I hold her gaze. “He was a bastard. I was on my way here to kill him myself.”
It’s an exaggeration, but not much of one. If I’d gotten him alone tonight, I honestly don’t know how it would have ended.
“I need your help. Can you keep it together for a little longer?” I hold her gaze. “We need to get his body—” I cut myself off, glancing at the other corpse. “Sorry—bodies—out of here.”
She’s blinking too fast, the edges of shock creeping in again.
“Sera, do you understand me?”
Uncertainty is written all over her face. She looks like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff, and I am definitely not a safe option.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I repeat.
Every second feels loud, ticking in my ears. If someone comes out the back door, or around the corner, I’ll have to kill them to protect her. I realize the thought doesn’t bother me as much as it should, but I’m not sure how I’d explain a third body.
“I know you’re in shock, and I wish I had time to explain this to you. But in the meantime, I’m going to need you to go with your gut.” Her head gives a little shake. “I’m well aware of what your brother is capable of. If I do anything to you, he’ll turn my intestines into a belt.”
It’s another exaggeration. I’m not afraid of her brother, but the reminder seems to settle her.
“He wouldn’t take the time to make a belt,” The tiny whisper makes my lips twitch.
“You don’t have any reason to trust me,” I add. “But if you’re going to get out of this alive, you need to.”
She shakes her head, dark hair swinging forward to shield half her face again. I miss the full view of her eyes more than I should.
“Do you know who my father is?” I ask quietly. “What they’ll do to you if they find out you killed him?”
She flinches, another tiny whimper escaping.
Guilt pricks in my chest, but there’s no time to be gentle.
“You can freak out later. Right now, we have work to do, so get your shit together.”
Three fast blinks. Then she sucks in a jagged breath.
“How?” Her voice is a little stronger.
Relief loosens my shoulders. She’s not the only one at risk now. Helping her paints a giant bullseye on my back.
I don’t reconsider for even a moment.
“My car’s at the curb,” I explain. “Black Audi, four-door. I need you to circle the block and pull into the alley.”
I pull my keys from my pocket, letting the fob dangle between us. “Here.”
She hesitates, and I don’t blame her. Her nervous system must be a wreck.
“We either work together, Sera, or we’re both fucked,” I say evenly. “Do you want to live?”
I don’t know which of my words penetrate her shock, but her face hardens, jaw firming. Her pulse is pounding clearly in her throat behind the marks my father left, but she steps closer, stopping just outside of my reach.
“Toss them.”
Smart girl.
I throw her the fob, and she catches it easily despite the tremor in her hands. “Is there anyone inside waiting for you?”
“What?”