Chapter Fifty Two Lev
Chapter Fifty Two
Lev
Tommy is going to die.
Finn is going to die.
Marco is going to die.
Matteo is going to die.
Nero is going to die.
They are all going to fucking die alongside all of their men.
I’ll wipe all of them out with my bare fucking hands one by one.
I’ll make them watch too. They can watch as I kill each of them one by one so they know what’s coming to them next.
I want to be able to smell their fucking fear, to be able to taste it in the air.
Did they think they would get away with this? If Dragna dies… I will put their heads on fucking spikes at the gates of his house.
It’s been three hours since we found him and got him home. Doctors brought him down here to our OR to do emergency surgery and after Alina passed out and I got her checked by another doctor, I’ve been outside the room Dragna is in, pacing up and down, not knowing if he’s alive or dead.
The fact we got to him so quickly and got a pulse back has me holding out hope he’ll come back to us, but the blood…
there was so much blood. I’m covered in it, like it’s the only sign that he was ever alive, that he existed, and a part of me doesn’t want to wash it off or change into clean clothing.
I feel like I’m holding onto the last part of him even if it sounds sick.
“Come on moy brat. You can’t leave us in this mess. You can’t die and leave Willow. You can’t leave me.” My voice cracks as I press my hands up to the steel doors speaking out loud to him, hoping somehow he can hear me.
We’ve always had a strong connection. We’re more than cousins, more than brothers.
He’s my fucking lifeline, he’s all I’ve had since my mother and sisters were taken from me.
Aunt Milena and our grandfather raised me, but Dragna moulded me.
He made me the man I am. He protected me and there have been countless times when he put his life on the line for me over the years of being soldiers within the Bratva together.
I fist my hands and let out loud groan of frustration, anger and sadness.
“BLYAT’”
I pound my fist against the wall and I search my mind wondering what Dragna would want me to do, not as his family, but as his Sovetnik. I let out a humourless laugh at all the times he’s told me to control my emotions because this is exactly what he was talking about.
We know the Italians have Willow, we know they shot Dragna, Alina collapsed and there’s around forty of our men upstairs waiting for orders on what to do and all I can focus on is standing outside this operating room letting my emotions get the better of me.
What the fuck am I doing? Dragna would be screaming at me to pull my shit together and form a fucking plan, to get out of my head and take these fuckers down in a calculating way just like he would.
I let out a breath, knowing this is the time to step the fuck up. I place my hand on the doors and close my eyes, hoping again that Dragna can somehow hear me when I speak.
I punch the wall one last time before composing myself and placing a hand on the doors separating Dragna from me.
I can do this.
“I’ll be back later with Willow. You better be fucking alive when I bring her home moy brat.”