1. Sofia #2
“Mmm. One would think so.” He nods and as his eyes meet mine, I have the distinct feeling of being caressed with rough hands at the small of my back. Who is this man?
“You’ve got Bratva tats,” I say, gesturing to the ones I can see. “Are you acquainted with my father?”
“Your father?” I nod to Papa at the table and quickly notice some of the waiters walking in unison toward his table. The man smiles and looks back at me. “Well. Isn’t that interesting?”
I don’t know what he means by that, but something in the way he’s smiling sends alarms through my body. He finishes his drink.
“Excuse me, Princess,” he says, “I’m afraid I have something that needs to be taken care of. Maybe I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
He stands, opening his jacket… and that’s when I see the gun.
He’s moving before I can think, stalking across the room as he pulls the gun out of the holster in his jacket. All I can think to do is scream.
“PAPA!” is all I get out before the shooting starts. It all happens in slow motion. The man with the silver hair fires off several rounds, hitting my father in the chest. As he falls back, waiters all around us pull out machine guns.
There’s no time. I start to run, spotting Adam as he stands stock still on the edge of the dancefloor, his eyes large and blue as he watches our family and all our guests get mowed down by bullets.
I’m grabbed by the arm by one of the waiters, bald with dark, soulless eyes. He sneers at me as he yanks me close. “Where you going, baby?”
I drive the heel of my hand into his nose, breaking it. His head jerks back and he lets me go. I chop him in the throat and as he stumbles back, I roundhouse kick him in the chest. He falls to the floor and slides back a foot before sitting up and grabbing his broken nose. “Fucking bitch!”
I don’t wait as he raises his gun. I run. Run for Adam, who’s still stuck in a frozen pose. The moment I grab his arm, he comes to life, looking at me with terror in his eyes.
“Come on!” I yell.
We run toward the kitchen door, darting back across the room as bullets fly all around us. We burst into the kitchen as the staff are already scattering toward the back exits. My father’s personal chef is right ahead and he gets to the door first, swinging it open.
Plaster and gunfire explode all around us as bullets pepper his body, bloodying his white uniform. My brother and I duck behind a wall as the plaster rains down on us.
“What’s happening?” Adam says hysterically. “Sofia—”
I look back through the kitchen where we came.
It’s gonna be seconds before someone chases us in here.
And even less before whoever’s on the other side of the back entrance comes through.
I look around frantically for another exit, and I see it, a trap door on the other side of the kitchen that leads to the wine cellar.
I yank my brother up and we dart across the room.
“Come on,” I say as I grab the little metal ring in the center of the door and lift it open. Wooden stairs and dank basement smell greet me as I lead the way down. Adam closes the door behind us, and it occurs to me that we should try locking it, but I know there’s no time.
The wine cellar is nearly pitch black and my eyes are starting to adjust, but it’s not happening fast enough. I take Adam’s hand and walk forward with my hand out. The moment I touch one of the wine barrels, I know I’m going the right way.
Ten barrels to the storm door on the other side. Usually a short walk, but right now, it feels like it’s on the moon. The sounds of shooting and banging stomps of those running from above us makes it feel like the whole ceiling is about to rain down on us.
“They… they killed him,” Adam says between gasps of air. “Sof, they killed our father—”
“I know.” I’m doing my best to push down my own sobs. I can’t break. Not now. We need to survive.
“They’re going to come for us, too. They—”
“Concentrate on getting out of here. We’ll worry about the rest later.” The toe of my shoe hits the bottom of the stairs leading up to the storm door. I reach forward and find the railing, then take a step up.
“Steps,” I tell Adam. “Be careful.”
We walk up the stairs. We get about halfway up when the light changes. Behind us, the trap door has been opened. I get to the storm door and push as hard as I can. Adam helps me, standing by my side and pushing hard until it finally lifts up into the night.
And we’re out. Together, Adam and I run across the property toward our cars in the lot, only a few feet away.
Thank God I didn’t listen to my father earlier and park it in the garage.
It’s no doubt blocked by the other Bratva.
We run across the grass as the sound of gunshots continues in the distance.
We get to the car, jumping in through carelessly unlocked doors. As I look for my spare keys, we hear shouting. Adam turns around in the passenger’s seat.
“They’re coming,” he says, his voice low and full of dread. “Hurry, Sof.”
I find my keys under the seat and start the car. The second I do, gunshots ring out. As we pull out of the lot and off my father’s property, more shots ring out, some of them sparking against my car…
But we escape. We turn off the property and keep driving into the night.