43. Luna
Luna
The ride home is quiet, the post-party exhaustion settling over us like a weighted blanket.
Amani has fallen asleep on Konstantin’s shoulder, her long lashes fluttering slightly as she breathes deeply. He hasn’t moved an inch, as if afraid to wake her. Instead, he simply shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over her, his usual rough exterior softening in a way that makes me smile.
Dimitri is just as bad.
The man is passed out on Raven’s lap, his arms crossed over his chest, his face peaceful for once.
Raven, who had been stubbornly resisting sleep, finally gave in, her head thrown back against the plush seat.
Even in unconsciousness, her fingers absently thread through his hair, playing with the strands in a way that I doubt she even realizes.
And then there’s me.
I’m curled up in Vlad’s lap, his arms wrapped securely around me as we sway gently with the motion of the car. The warmth of his body seeps into me, grounding me, reminding me just how safe I feel with him.
His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare thigh, his touch light but possessive. His scent—smoky, musky, uniquely him—fills my senses. I tilt my head, pressing my lips to the corner of his jaw in a soft kiss.
“You’re quiet, Lisichka,” he murmurs, his voice low, thick with exhaustion.
I hum, tilting my head back to look at him. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
I hesitate.
This is it.
This is the moment.
I have spent weeks telling myself that I would say it when the timing was right. That I would find the perfect moment to tell Vladimir Petrov that I love him.
And now, it’s here.
I take a deep breath, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine.
“I have a secret to tell you.”
His lips twitch, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Oh?”
I nod, brushing my fingers against the scruff of his jaw. “Yeah. A big one.”
He raises a brow, his hold tightening on me just slightly. “Should I be concerned?”
I smile, shaking my head. “No. But it’s?—”
The world lurches.
The car jerks violently to the side, and my body is wrenched from Vlad’s grasp.
The screech of tires. The explosion of metal against metal.
A deafening blast echoes behind us.
Amani and Raven snap awake in an instant, while Konstantin and Dimitri jolt upright, their instincts on high alert.
Through the tinted windows, I see it—fire engulfing the security car behind us, the twisted wreckage flipping into the air like a child's toy.
Then, gunfire.
Bullets slam into the side of the limo, the impact making the entire car shudder.
“Get down!” Vlad roars, shoving me against his chest as he reaches for his gun.
Konstantin is already moving, his weapon drawn, rolling down the window just enough to fire off shots at the black SUVs flanking us.
“Two vehicles,” Dimitri barks, pulling his own gun. “They’re trying to push us off the road.”
Another hard hit, the SUVs ramming into the side of the limo, sending us careening toward the edge of the highway.
I reach for my own gun, my hands steady despite the chaos, but before I can aim?—
The limo flips.
Time slows.
The first rotation throws everyone into the air.
The world turns upside down, gravity losing all meaning as my body is ripped from Vlad’s grasp.
I reach for him.
But my fingers grasp nothing but air.
Glass shatters, shards slicing through my skin as we tumble.
The sound of crunching metal and the sickening snap of the impact drown out everything.
I hit the roof—then the floor—then the roof again, and my breath ripped from my lungs.
I don’t know which way is up.
My vision is blurry, my head slamming against something hard, the ringing in my ears deafening.
Then, silence.
I don’t know how long I was out.
Seconds? Minutes?
But when I finally pry my eyes open, the world is tilted, smoke filling my lungs as I cough violently.
Pain.
It’s everywhere.
I blink through the haze, forcing myself to move.
Amani.
She’s next to me, groaning as she pushes herself onto her hands and knees. Blood drips from a cut on her temple, but her eyes find mine instantly, sharp and aware.
“You good?” she rasps.
I nod, even though I’m pretty sure half my ribs are broken.
I glance around, my heart hammering. The limo is on its side, the roof caved in, smoke curling from the wreckage.
“Raven?” I call out, panic creeping into my voice.
Nothing.
Then—
A low groan.
A few feet away, Dimitri is unconscious, his arm locked protectively around Raven, who is entirely still in his embrace.
My stomach twists violently.
Konstantin is leaning against the wreckage, a deep gash on his forehead and blood dripping down his face as he pushes himself up, shielding Amani and me behind him.
But I don’t care.
Because where is Vlad?
The two SUVs are still here. The men inside are already pouring out, their weapons raised.
Amani and I exchange a look.
Despite the pain, we move.
We don’t wait.
We don’t hesitate.
We attack.
I lunge at the first man, my elbow driving into his throat before I twist his wrist, making him drop the gun. He barely has time to react before I slam my knee into his face, the crunch of bone breaking beneath my attack.
Amani takes out another. Her movements are brutal and efficient, dodging a knife before driving her heel into his ribs.
But I’m not focused on the fight anymore.
Because I still don’t see Vladimir.
My breathing is ragged, my vision tunneling as I take down another man with a precise strike.
Where the fuck is he?
Where is my Dracula?
Panic claws at my chest, my heart hammering painfully.
I can’t see him.
I can’t?—
“LUNA!”
Konstantin’s voice roars over the chaos, and I barely register him throwing something?—
A gun.
I catch it instinctively, twisting just in time to fire at the man aiming for my head.
One shot. Between the eyes.
He drops.
But I still don’t see Vladimir.
I turn, my throat tightening, my vision blurring with something that feels too close to fear.
“Where is he?” I demand. “WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?”
Konstantin’s jaw clenches, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his wound.
And then?—
A low, pained groan comes from the wreckage.
And everything inside me shatters.
Vladimir.
He’s still inside.
My breath catches.
I don’t think—I run.
I stumble through the wreckage, shoving past Konstantin even as he grabs for me, yelling something I can’t hear. My ears are still ringing; my vision is still blurred with blood and adrenaline, but none of that matters.
Because he’s in there.
Because I can’t lose him.
The limo is crushed, its roof partially caved in, and the doors warped and twisted beyond recognition. I spot movement through the shattered window—Vlad’s hand, fingers twitching against the glass, his knuckles split and bleeding.
“Vlad!” I drop to my knees, gripping the edge of the door. “Vladimir, can you hear me?”
A low groan answers me, his voice rough, disoriented. “Luna…”
He’s alive.
But he’s trapped.
Panic surges through me as I yank on the door, ignoring the pain in my already bruised ribs. The metal doesn’t budge. My hands are slick with blood, my nails breaking as I claw at the frame, trying to force it open.
Behind me, gunfire erupts again—Konstantin firing at the few remaining men while Amani takes down another attacker with a sharp twist of her knife.
But I don’t hear any of it.
I only hear the rasp of Vlad’s breath, the way it stutters, the raw pain in his voice when he growls my name.
“Hold on, Vlad,” I grit out, planting my foot against the side of the limo for leverage. “I’ve got you.”
I pull again, my muscles straining, my arms shaking from exertion.
And then?—
A firm grip suddenly clamps over mine.
Konstantin.
His expression is grim as he yanks on the door beside me, his biceps straining, his own body battered but unrelenting. Amani moves to help, her face twisted with determination, and together, we give one final heave?—
The door rips free with a sharp, metallic screech.
I don’t waste a second.
I scramble inside, ignoring the jagged shards of glass slicing at my skin. My hands find him immediately—his body half-crushed against the crumpled seats, blood smearing the side of his face.
His eyes flicker open, glazed but locked on mine.
And in that moment, nothing else matters.
Not the wreckage.
Not the gunfire.
Not the danger still lurking in the shadows.
Just him.
“You came back for me,” he mutters, lips barely forming the words.
I let out a sharp, half-crazed laugh, my throat thick. “Of course I did, you stupid Russian.”
His mouth quirks—the faintest ghost of a smirk—before he winces, trying to shift. “I think I broke something.”
My stomach twists at the sight of his blood-streaked face, the bruises already forming along his cheekbones, but he’s alive. That’s all that matters.
“We need to move,” Konstantin barks. “Now.”
I nod, looping one of Vlad’s arms around my shoulders. “Come on, Dracula.”
Vlad grits his teeth, his entire body tensing as we lift him from the wreckage. His breathing is ragged, but he doesn’t complain. He holds onto me, his grip tight despite the pain.
We make it halfway to the SUV before something hits me.
Hard.
A violent explosion of white bursts behind my eyes, my skull cracking with the impact.
The world tilts.
I hear shouting—Konstantin roaring my name, Amani snarling as a gun fires?—
Then nothing.
Just darkness.
Pain.
It’s the first thing I register when I finally claw my way back to consciousness—a dull, relentless throbbing at the base of my skull. My limbs feel heavy, my body sluggish and slow, like I’ve been drugged.
I try to move—only to realize I can’t.
My wrists are bound.
My head snaps up as reality crashes down on me.
Amani is slumped a few feet away, her lip busted, dried blood smeared across her temple. She’s still breathing. Barely.
And Raven?—
She’s chained to a chair, her head lolling forward.
Fuck.
We were taken.
I inhale sharply, forcing myself to focus, to think past the blinding pain. My wrists burn against the restraints, but I don’t panic.
I don’t panic.
I’ve been in worse situations, so I know I can get us out.
But first, I need to figure out who the fuck is about to die for taking us.