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Chapter 4
Misha
As the minutes mercilessly crawl by with no sign of help in sight, my worry increases until it feels like it will gnaw its way right through my chest.
My little deer is slowly bleeding to death, and I can hear her strength fading in her voice. I’m also sure she has broken ribs, if not internal injuries, as well.
As hard as I tried to shield her during the fall, I couldn’t do shit to keep the pieces of concrete from tearing her up. I felt her body take the blow when the metal rod stabbed her, ripping her top off in the process.
Even though I took one hell of a blow to my back, and I know I’ve broken a couple of ribs, I ignore the pain and focus on my little deer.
I didn’t lie when I said I suffered worse. I’ve been tortured, shot, and beaten to within an inch of my life, and that’s only taking into account my initiation into the bratva. The initiation is brutal to prepare you for a life as an enforcer, so you won’t break under pressure if caught by the enemy.
Tonight is a walk in the park in comparison to the life I chose to live.
I did it for my sister. I have no idea what happened to our parents, but we grew up in an orphanage until the Aslanhovs saved us from that hell. That’s how I met Alek. His parents took my sister and me in and gave us a home. They became family to us.
Mr. Aslanhov, Alek’s father, is high up in the bratva, controlling part of Moscow for Viktor Vetrov.
I joined the bratva because I wanted to protect Tiana, my sister, the way Mr. Aslanhov protects his family.
At the end of the day, everything I do is for Tiana.
I keep the worry from showing on my face and press another kiss to my little deer’s temple.
Wanting to distract her from her panic and fear, and also to keep her awake, I say, “I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.”
She lets out a weak chuckle. “Sounds… like a deal.”
Brushing a hand over her hair, I fight the urge to squash her against me.
Christ, I wish I could claw my way out of this concrete grave and carry her to safety.
“I like vegetables,” I admit.
“Hah,” she almost laughs, but the pain stops her. “You’re the first man I know who likes vegetables.”
“Growing up in an orphanage, you learn to be grateful for any food you can get into your empty stomach,” I tell her another secret.
She tilts her head back to look into my eyes, and I feel the invisible sparks between us. Her eyebrows draw together, and her eyes fill with compassion. “That’s awful. I’m sorry you grew up like that.”
I shake my head and try to brush the dust off her face. “Your turn.”
She thinks for a moment, then with her eyes locked on mine, she admits, “You would’ve been my first kiss.” Scrunching her nose, she corrects herself, “Well, we did kiss. Kind of.”
Shock shudders through me, and a frown forms on my forehead. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Because I wanted it to be you.”
Satisfaction fills my chest, and the corner of my mouth lifts. “Why? You don’t know me.”
She shrugs and flinches from the pain the movement causes. “You have gorgeous eyes, and blue is my favorite color.”
“Gorgeous,” I say, thinking that’s the last word I’d associate with myself.
“Yeah. I can stare into your eyes for hours.”
Silence follows her words, making the attraction I felt before the explosion return full force.
“Do you still want the kiss?” I ask, my tone deep and low.
Her features tighten, and I can swear I see a flash of sadness in her eyes, then she whispers, “Please. If I’m going to die, I at least want one decent kiss.”
I shake my head, my voice filled with determination as I say, “You won’t die. Not like this.”
Tears make her eyes shine, and I stare at her until the attraction buzzes between us like a live wire.
Tiana is the only woman I’m gentle with. I treat my sister like the treasure she is.
So giving a woman a tender kiss is not something I’ve done before. But it’s my little deer’s first kiss.
And it might be her last.
Shoving the thought away, I lower my head and claim her lips.
They’re as soft and plump as they look, and when my tongue enters her mouth, I fucking kiss her as if it will magically heal her.
As my tongue lashes at hers, and my teeth tug at her plump bottom lip, I feel trembles rock through her body.
Her right hand grips hold of my shoulder, and slowly her fingers trail up to my neck, where she holds onto me.
A whimper escapes her, filled with satisfaction and need, and the velvet taste of her mouth threatens to rob me of my sanity.
“Khristos, moy malen’kiy olen’.” With a growl rumbling from my chest, I break the kiss even though I want to devour every inch of her.
But she’s injured, and we’re fucking buried beneath tons of concrete.
This is not the time or place.
Our eyes meet, and seeing the dreamy expression in hers, I know she loved the kiss.
She sucks in a shuddering breath and whispers, “Wow.”
Wow is the fucking understatement of the century. Tasting my little deer only makes me want all of her.
Tears still shine in her emerald eyes, and I can see she means every word when she says, “Thank you, mio principe.”
Lightly, I shake my head. I’m not an emotional man, but circumstance is bringing my feelings to the surface. “No. Thank you, moy malen’kiy olen’, for giving me your first kiss. I’ll treasure it.”
Amazement tightens her features. “You’re a dream come true.”
If only you knew I’m a nightmare to most, who come face-to-face with
me.
“Tell me another secret,” she says, her voice sounding weaker than
before the kiss.
“You’re the only woman I’ve kissed tenderly.”
The corner of her mouth tries but fails to lift in a grin, and seeing the strength drain from her is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure.
Her eyes flutter closed, and I watch as she struggles to take deep breaths. Then she opens them, and her bottomless green irises focus on me again. “I’m going to die a virgin. Right?” She tries to chuckle. “Do you think I’ll become an angel?”
You’re already one.
Instead of voicing my thoughts, I shake my head, “You won’t die a virgin. We’ll get out of here, and I’ll corrupt you.”
This time a stunning smile spreads over her face. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Suddenly we hear banging noises, and my head snaps up. I don’t hesitate to shout, “We’re down here!”
“Help!” my little deer tries to cry, but the sound doesn’t travel far.
Letting go of her, I grab the nearest piece of concrete and start to bang against an exposed pipe.
I can hear people digging, and it makes hope explode in my heart.
She’ll live.
“Misha!” I hear Alek yell, which tells me they’re getting close. Dust starts to rain down on us as the concrete groans.
I quickly crouch over my little deer so none of the debris will fall on
her.
Then my eyes lock on her still face, and my heart stutters in my chest. “Net!” Crouching lower, I check her breathing and finding nothing but
shallow puffs, fear engulfs me. “Net, moy malen’kiy olen’.” No, my little deer. I won’t allow you to die.
You will fucking live!
More debris fall, then suddenly, bright floodlights fill the small space we are stuck in.
“Come, Misha!” Alek lies over the edge of a broken slab of concrete, holding his hand out to me.
I shake my head, and slipping my arms beneath my little deer’s limp body, I lift her up. “Take her!”
Alek’s face distorts with disgust. “Leave the bitch and take my hand.
She’s D’Angelo’s daughter.”
It takes a moment for the words to sink in.
“Christ, Misha,” Armani barks as he joins Alek on the ledge. “Caruso D’Angelo just pulled up. We need to get our asses out of here, or there will be an unsanctioned war.”
I glance down at my little deer, and unable to just leave her, I face my brothers. “Take her.”
“Mat’ Khrista,” Alek spits, then he leans farther over the ledge and takes her from me.
“Careful,” I snap at him as I jump and grab hold of a broken piece of concrete, climbing out of the hole.
The moment I can straighten to my full height, I glance around me and take in the destroyed nightclub. It looks like a fucking war zone.
My eyes lock on a group of men, and recognizing Caruso D’Angelo, the head of an opposing Italian faction, I take the girl from Alek and make my way over the rubble.
Caruso recognizes his daughter and hurries toward me. Our eyes lock, and a growl builds in my chest as I face the enemy of the bratva and mafia.
Violent tension thickens the air, and every muscle in my body is on high alert.
“Petrov,” he snarls at me.
I shove the girl at him. “Consider this a professional favor. Next time I’ll kill her.”
His nostrils flare as he cradles his daughter to his chest. “I’ll allow you five minutes to leave.” His jaw clenches as he bites out, “Consider it a professional favor.”
Fucker.
I resist the urge to take one last look at his daughter, my hands’ fisting at my sides.
Turning away from him, it’s to see Alek and Armani right behind me with thunderous expressions on their faces.
Without a word and never taking our eyes off the enemy, we slowly make our way out of the pile of rubble to where a car is waiting with a group of guards from St. Monarch’s.
Carson Koslov, the director of St. Monarch’s, doesn’t look at us as he keeps his eyes trained on D’Angelo.
Fuck, this is not the first impression I wanted to make on him. Carson’s brother is Viktor Vetrov’s godfather, and I know without a doubt this news will reach them.
“Get in,” Director Koslov orders, and only when we’re all seated in the back of an armored SUV, does he climb into the passenger seat.
The guards hurry to get in, some taking another SUV, and as we pull away from the destroyed nightclub, I glance out of the window and watch as D’Angelo hurries to an ambulance with his daughter.
My little deer turned out to be a little snake.
Exhaustion sets into my bones as I come to terms with the fact that I was stuck in a hole with the enemy.
I shake my head, hating that she managed to fool me.
Is it possible she didn’t know who I am?
No, she saw the stars on my arms and must’ve seen the tattoos on the back of my hands as well. She has to know what they stand for.
Even if she didn’t know, it doesn’t change anything. She’s a D’Angelo, and therefore, my enemy.
There’s a bitter taste on the back of my tongue, and for a moment, I’m torn between loyalty and the attraction I felt for her.
But it’s only for a moment, then I shut my emotions down and turn my head to look at my brothers.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Broken fucking arm,” Armani growls. “Just banged up,” Alek answers. “You?”
“Couple of broken ribs. Nothing serious.” I turn my attention to Director Koslov. “Thank you for coming to get us.”
He just nods.
“Do you know who attacked the club?” I ask.
“D’Angelo,” Director Koslov answers. “He didn’t know his daughter and her friend were there.”
I shake my head as a bitter chuckle escapes my lips. “So we were the targets?”
“Yes. Viktor will take care of it. He wants you to focus on your training.”
I’m not surprised to hear we were the intended targets of the bombing, but had I known that, I would’ve handed D’Angelo the lifeless body of his daughter.
Green, wide eyes intrude on my vengeful thoughts, but with a merciless swipe, I erase her from my memories, and every flicker of emotion she made me feel is buried among the screams of the souls I’ve killed, never to see the light of day again.
She’s nothing but a mistake. One I’ll never make again.