Chapter 26
VIKTOR
“Andrei!”
My voice explodes across the empty office floor, and it echoes back to me, full of rage and doom. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this angry before. I’m too full of emotion, too full of fire and the desire to kill someone with my bare hands, to come to terms with what my brother has done.
Even the word feels caustic to my thoughts, an anathema to everything I believed in, to my world and the way it had always run.
I force myself to focus on getting Leah back first. And then I will figure out how to deal with my brother and my nephew.
I nearly break down the doors to my office, only to see half of my vor and my brother already inside.
“Andrei!” I growl, holding myself back from strangling him with my bare hands only through pure force of will. “What the fuck is going on? What have you done? Where is Leah?”
My brother is lounging in what I now realize is my chair at my place at the table. Even he knows better than to sit there, even when I’m not present.
Instead of jumping up and giving me the seat and the respect due to me, he lounges back, a lazy, leonine smile diffusing his face with ugly satisfaction.
“Finally figured it out, did you?”
“Where is Leah?” I demand again. “Where did Marius take them?”
Andrei doubles down, his grin growing into something nasty laced with what I can’t believe is hatred. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He settles back in my chair as though he owns it. As though it’s his now, which only makes my rage grow until I see red.
“You think I’m going to let her escape? That whore you got pregnant with a fucking heir? I already took care of Peter. Why would I let another of your spawn come into this world and take my place? Take what should have been mine and Marius’s in the first place?”
My gun is in my hand in a heartbeat; I’m beyond rational thought. Before I can click the safety off and aim it at my brother, I’m suddenly the target of every man and gun in the room.
Andrei laughs. “Come now, brother. You think I would take your place without ensuring the men are on my side?”
“Traitors,” I hiss, but no one reacts to the word, the muzzles of their guns unwavering.
“No, brother. Not traitors. Only men who understand this is the way it should have been from the beginning.”
Every muscle in my body strains to react, to take out every single one of these traitorous bastards.
Every bone in my body, down to my very core, wants to take each of these men out slowly, painfully, until they cry for mercy I don’t give them, before I tear my brother apart limb from limb while he’s still alive.
The monster within me bellows for release.
But if I die—and I would certainly die taking on these men alone—Leah dies too. So do Eliza and Suzie. And my unborn child. I choose them over any of this. Just as I told Leah, none of this matters anymore without her. I realize now I meant every word.
So I do something I’ve never once done in my life — I run.
It’s not the move Andrei expects, because I don’t hear the order to kill me coming from my own brother’s mouth until I’m out the door.
Guns go off, bullets pounding into the wall of my office.
It gives me enough of a head start so that I am gone, tearing out of there while they’re still pounding down the stairs after me.
I escape out the back of the building, tearing around corners, almost slipping on a slick grate in the sidewalk. The snow is heavier now, coating my eyelashes and hair, and soaking through my blazer, the cold chill in stark contrast to the heat of my body as I run.
I almost dive into a cab and shout directions to the hospital. The cab driver’s eyes flick to mine in the rearview mirror before he goes ramrod straight and cuts someone off in his rush to pull into traffic and get me where I need to go. Even he can see the dangerous monster I have become.
I don’t let myself dwell on the ride to the hospital. There will be time for that later, time for anger, time to focus on the enormous betrayal and the knowledge that I somehow missed every sign that my brother was trying to take the Bratva right from under my nose.
Right now, I need to focus on surviving, so I can get to Leah before Andrei gives the kill order.
He could’ve already given it. They could already be dead in a place where I will never find their bodies.
But it’s more likely that Andrei will use them to trap me.
It’s a dangerous game of cat and mouse, a deadly game, and I have very little time to figure out how I’m going to win it and keep those I love safe.
Iliya is asleep when I reach his hospital room. He looks less pale than he did before, the heart rate monitor beeping steadily. He blinks up at me groggily as I start disconnecting his lines, having turned off the alarms first.
“Boss?”
“Andrei betrayed me,” I tell him. “He’s taken over the Bratva and our men too. I need to get you out of here.”
They must have given Iliya pain medication because his response is slow, lagging. I have to help him sit up when he struggles, gritting his teeth against the pain in his side.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, brother.” I duck so he can put his arm around my shoulder for support as he gets to his feet.
“We have to save Leah and the others,” he gasps. “I’ll be fine.”
I’m not so sure of it; blood is still coming out of the drain on his side. But I know where I can take him, as long as we get out of here.
I peek out the door while he dresses and see some of my former men emerging from the elevator on the opposite end of the hall.
“Going to take the stairs.”
Iliya nods, gathering himself, his expressionless face telling me he’ll endure anything without a word of complaint.
We hobble around the corner just as I hear the door to Iliya’s room open.
In a second, they’ll know what happened and come looking for us.
I push harder to get to the stairwell, except Iliya is leaning on me, and even my strength isn’t enough to hold him upright and keep walking at such a brisk pace.
“Why are you so fucking heavy?” I demand, gasping for breath as we burst through the door into the stairwell.
“Do you want me to be able to protect you?” Iliya growls.
“I’m going to tell the fucking cook to stop serving you those enormous breakfasts.”
Iliya only grunts instead of snapping back a caustic reply, and we both focus on getting down the flight of stairs and another before we duck back onto a hospital floor. I know we’re drawing attention as we go, but I don’t have time to hide this any better.
An empty wheelchair sits against the wall. I gratefully dump Iliya into it, ignoring the way his face pales with sudden pain.
“I don’t need you to push me in a wheelchair.” Iliya forces the words out through a tightly clenched jaw.
I lean forward to hiss into his ear. “I am not dragging you out of here over my shoulder, you jackass.”
Iliya makes a growling sound in the back of his throat.
I can see him glaring ahead, but he doesn’t say anything more.
I’m slightly energized by the banter that feels like an island of normalcy in this parallel universe I suddenly find myself in.
We’re almost home free when I hear a shout behind me, a Russian curse on my name.
For the second time today, I start running.
I burst out of the doors to the waiting cab, just as gunfire erupts behind me.
People scream and dive for cover. I just pray the cab driver won’t take off before we get to him.
My gun is already in my hand, I return fire and duck behind a pillar with Iliya.
I hear more shouts, these in English: security guards.
Fuck!
There’s another exchange of rapid fire and shouts, and I peer around the column to see the Antonov men exchanging fire with the guards.
One guard is already on the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
The other looks like he’s bleeding from his arm, but he’s still standing, still firing back.
I use the distraction to take out one of the Antonov men with a shot to the chest. He hits the ground like a dead weight.
I don’t wait to see what the other one does before I help lever Iliya to his feet.
Another shot rings out, another cry of pain that falls eerily silent as Iliya and I move from our cover as quickly as we can and head for the cab. A shot rings out and hits the cement of another column just behind us, but I keep going, remaining a moving target instead of a still one.
More shots strike the bricks and pavement around us, and we’re almost to the cab as one buries itself in a wall to my right.
I yank the door open, and Iliya all but tumbles inside.
I’m about to follow when I hear someone shout behind me.
I know it’s one of my traitorous men. I turn to find his gun trained directly on me in a way I can’t escape.
“I’m going to get a huge reward when I bring you both in,” the man grins as he aims.
The shot rings out, and I jerk, expecting pain. The other man wavers on his feet before pitching forward, blood already seeping out of a hole in his chest. Iliya is leaning out of the cab, a gun in his hand.
“Let’s go,” he gasps and disappears back into the cab’s interior, his face a creased mask of pain. As I get in and slam the door, I see the blood seeping through the bandage on his side.
“Go!” I roar, police sirens growing closer, the aftermath of our escape sliding past us as the terrified cab driver peels out, barreling toward the address I’ve given him.