Extended Epilogue
MIKO
Intense satisfaction surges through me as the hulking Russian slowly slides off my blade, his hand still clutching at the fabric of my shirt as he struggles to stay on his feet.
But even as he clings to me, I can see the light leaving his eyes.
If a man ever deserved to die at my hands, it’s this bastard, and I watch him collapse to his knees in a heap, his lifeblood pooling around his body from the numerous holes I punched in him.
But he’s still clinging to life, his sharp gaze staring up at me with such shock and fury, he looks like he wants to stand back up.
“You don’t mess with the Chiaroscuros,” I growl, swinging my arm in an arc that opens his throat in a deep crimson smile.
He tumbles backward, a gurgled choke escaping him as his last breath rushes from his lungs.
Breathing heavily, I loom over him. I haven’t been matched that well in quite some time.
Aside from my brother Sandro, no one holds a candle to my close combat skills, but this bastard gave me a run for my money—even if he’s got a bit of a belly on him.
He was big in every sense of the word.
And now, he’s dead.
Stooping to wipe my blade on the shoulder of his shirt, I take deep breaths, slowing my heart. And the sound of a soft squeak makes my eyes snap up to find striking blue eyes peering out at me from under the dining room table.
I recognize her immediately, even when she’s crouched in shadow, curled into a frightened ball.
Anika Novikov.
She’s a classic Russian beauty—with pale blonde hair that falls down to her shoulders in soft waves, smooth, delicate porcelain skin, high cheekbones that frame a straight button nose, and full, red lips that are slightly parted to reveal the hint of a gap between her two front teeth.
Her sky-blue eyes are round with fright, and she flinches as soon as our eyes meet.
“Come on out,” I command.
Then several Chiaroscuro men come flooding into the room, the twins, Sandro and Raf, among them.
“It took some doing, but we swept the entire property,” Raf says. “They took considerable losses. Any Bratva still alive have fled.”
“Good,” I growl darkly. “I’m taking control of their headquarters.”
Raf smirks, looking around the lavish, modern-style, open concept dining room and smiles. “Looks like the perfect place to get comfortable until we can reclaim our home.”
Sandro eyes the beautiful breakfast spread still sitting on the table and snags a strip of bacon with his blood-spattered hand. “Mmm, maple glazed. Looks like the former Pakhan has a good chef.”
“Well, we’re in luck, Brother, because he’ll be cooking for us from now on,” Raf quips.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Anika’s horrified expression as she watches us from the side of the room where she crawled out from under the table.
Wearing a stylish blue floral print dress with loose sleeves and a frilly skirt that stops before her knees, she looks ready for something dressier than just breakfast at home.
And the way the outfit’s color calls attention to her eyes sends a jolt of desire through my body.
I’ve only met the Novikov Pakhan’s wife once before, at a charity event, and when I didn’t know who she belonged to, I’d been more than a little interested in getting to know her.
A twinge of guilt tightens my stomach because now that her husband is dead, Anika is essentially trapped between a rock and a hard place.
The man who was sworn to protect her is gone, his forces scattered to the wind, and I’m not the only Chiaroscuro out for blood.
I might be leading the charge in annihilating the traitors who destroyed my adopted family’s home, but that doesn’t mean I have absolute control over the men.
Only a Don has that kind of power, and with Leo in hiding and no clear choice on who to take Don Augusta’s place, I’m confident there would be some in our ranks who would take the liberty to violate the Novikov Pakhan’s wife just to prove a point.
Hell, even his own men might try to take her in the chaotic aftermath of having their leader deposed.
After all, what better way is there to take a man’s power than by claiming everything that belongs to him?
If I don’t do something to shield Anika from that fate, she’ll likely be torn to pieces in the aftermath of this raid.
And it knots my stomach to think of something so beautiful and delicate being ripped apart like a doll trapped between squabbling children.
“I’m taking Pyotr’s widow as well,” I state authoritatively, raising my voice so the men entering the room will hear my declaration.
The more people who know she’s under my protection, the less likely they will be to try anything, because no one touches my things. They wouldn’t dare.
I stride toward Anika, ready to stake my claim and take her under my protection.
I would be lying if I said it didn’t send a thrill through my body to think of making her mine.
I’ll do it the right way—the honorable way—and marry her first. But until then, and until the bloodlust settles, I won’t be letting her out of my sight. I might trust the Chiaroscuro men with my life, but aside from my adopted brothers, I wouldn’t trust a single other soul with hers.
Anika’s chin lifts, a flash of fear and defiance flitting across her refined features.
No doubt, the idea of being with the man who killed her husband would be objectionable to her. But she’ll learn to live with it—and I’m sure she understands that the alternative would be a far more gruesome fate.
For a fleeting moment, I catch the alluring scents of cinnamon and rose as I step close to her, then without warning, Anika bolts.
It’s so unexpected, I stop short, my body tensing instinctively as I watch her cross the room with impressive speed.
She dips around the corner in the blink of an eye, and the sound of Raf’s laughter is what snaps me out of my shock.
“You'd better run, Miko, if you want to catch your new bride,” he teases.
What the hell does she think she’s doing?
I don’t have time for questions, though, and Raf is right. If I don’t get going, she might slip through my fingers. And God only knows what would happen to her then.
With an exasperated huff, I run.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Get Miko and Anika’s story here.