41. Ruslan
41
RUSLAN
I hear the sickening thump as Semyon's body hits the ground.
Then it happens. The first explosion rips through the theater like thunder.
Semyon wasn't lying.
My wife is in there! Our children are in there!
"Aurora…" The words tear from my throat as the second blast sends debris flying across the street. "Aurora!"
"Ruslan, don't!" Artyom grabs my arm, his fingers digging into muscle. "The building's coming down!"
I wrench free with such force he stumbles backward. "Aurora's inside!"
"You'll both die!" Artyom shouts after me, but his voice fades as I sprint toward the collapsing theater.
Smoke billows through blown-out doorways. A third explosion rocks the building, sending chunks of concrete raining down. I dodge falling debris, choking on dust and ash as I push deeper inside.
"Aurora!" My voice echoes through the crumbling lobby. "Aurora, where are you?"
A ceiling beam crashes down mere inches from where I stand. Fire starts licking at the ornate woodwork, turning the historic theater into an inferno.
" Zarechka !" I scream.
Each heartbeat feels like an eternity as I scan the chaos for any sign of her. The rational part of my brain—the pakhan who's survived two decades in the bratva—knows the odds.
But the man who promised to protect her, who swore no harm would come to her, refuses to accept it.
"AURORA!"
Another explosion rocks the building. The floor beneath me shifts, threatening to give way. Concrete dust rains from above as support beams splinter and crack.
I stumble through smoke so thick I can barely see my hand in front of my face. My lungs burn. My eyes water. But I push forward.
Because somewhere in this hell is the woman I love. The mother of my children. And I will not leave without her.
The theater groans like a dying animal with its death throes measured in concrete and steel.
I burst through the double doors into the main screening room, feeling the heat of fire at my back.
"AURORA!" My voice breaks, raw from smoke and desperation.
The once-elegant space is pure destruction. Seats torn from their moorings. Twisted metal. Plaster and dust everywhere. The ceiling has partially collapsed, exposing electrical wires that spark and hiss like angry vipers.
Then, a sound that stops my heart.
"Ruslan..." she calls back.
It's barely audible above the groaning building. But unmistakably her.
I follow her voice, clambering over broken chairs and fallen rafters. "Keep talking, zarechka ! Where are you?"
"Here... I'm here..."
I spot her near a wall next to a row of seats, pinned beneath a massive form. Kristofer.
That fucking monster tried to claim her even in death.
When I reach her, my knees almost buckle.
She's covered in blood. Her face, her clothes, her hands. For one terrible moment, I think it's hers. Then I see the knife handle protruding from Kristofer's neck.
Aurora's eyes meet mine. Wild, haunted, but alive. So gloriously alive.
"You killed him," I whisper, a surge of pride cutting through my terror.
"I had to," she gasps. "He was going to?—"
"Later," I tell her. "We need to go. Now."
I roll Kristofer's corpse off her, his dead weight sliding away with a sickening thud. His eyes stare upward, surprised in death like he couldn't believe his obsession finally fought back.
Another explosion rocks the building. The ceiling directly above the screen is starting to crumble.
I scoop Aurora into my arms, her body trembling against mine. She clutches my shirt with bloody fingers as I pivot toward the exit.
"The babies," she whispers against my neck. "Our babies..."
"They'll be alright," I promise, though I have no right to make such promises. "We're all going to be alright."
I cradle her against my chest and run, dodging falling debris. The smoke is thicker now, black and choking. The heat blisters my skin as we pass a wall of fire.
The ceiling caves in behind us as we reach the lobby. The front doors hang from broken hinges, and through them I see flashing lights, people running.
Freedom. Safety. Life.
I tighten my grip on Aurora and make the final sprint just in time as the building groans its death knell.