Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
The hail of bullets was immediate, and they barely missed me.
I didn't have enough ammo to get through this.
Fuck.
This was what I got for taking on this mission alone. I should've had backup. I should have grabbed Gregor by the fucking throat and made him listen. Made some type of deal.
He wasn't like our fathers or our grandfather. Gregor was reasonable. There could have been a compromise.
I didn’t know what it would have been.
But I could have done something, made a deal, like once I saved her, I’d bring her back to the house for questioning. Or maybe I could have said I would marry her.
I wouldn't be the first Ivanov man to carry a woman kicking and screaming down the aisle.
Hell, it was happening so often now, it was practically a new tradition.
There were other options, smarter options.
There had to have been an answer that didn't get both me and her killed.
I switched out the magazines again, but I was on my last one, and my two backup Glocks were smaller, only six rounds each.
I pressed my lips to the cold metal of the Glock, whispering a silent prayer to whatever gods still listened to men like me. Let this be enough. Let me reach her in time.
Mateo walked around the room. His footsteps echoed as he taunted me, asking me to come out, saying didn’t I want to see my girlfriend? While she was still breathing?
I hated that I let his words get to me, but they really got to me.
She was bleeding. I knew what kind of danger she was in. I could not have come this far just to lose her.
For the first time in my life, I really understood my father. I had always known he loved my mother too much to live in a world without her, but for the first time I really felt what he felt.
If Zoya was gone, there was no reason for me to stay here.
No reason to keep fighting.
There would be no light at the end of the tunnel.
Jesus fuck, how was I going to get out of this?
A window, up high and over to the right, shattered, glass raining in from the outside.
Then another on the other side.
Snipers.
Mateo started cursing, so he wasn't the one hit, but someone had been.
Then….
Footsteps.
Several pairs of footsteps. All in perfect synchronization, echoing from the hall, getting louder as they got closer.
Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.
It was like hearing death itself walking closer and closer.
Two more sniper shots, and then the cavalry arrived.
Artem, Damien, Kostya, and Gregor were all dressed in black and strapped up with more weapons than a small army. They didn't flinch as they walked into the room, guns drawn, and they started firing.
I got to my feet and moved to take my place next to Gregor, who shot me a look, eyes meeting mine for a split second—steel gray and unforgiving, but there was something else there.
Something that looked like understanding. Like forgiveness, maybe. He gave me the slightest nod, barely perceptible, but it hit me like a physical blow.
My cousins. My family.
They'd come for me when I'd gone rogue, when I'd chosen her over everything we'd built together.
"We finish this," Gregor said, his voice carrying the weight of our shared history, our shared purpose. "Then we talk."
Artem moved to flank my left without being asked. Kostya took point. Damien covered our six. Like we'd done a thousand times before, like we'd do a thousand times again.
The Ivanov name meant something, and we protected our own—even when our own were being goddamn idiots.
Thank you, I wanted to say, but the words got stuck in my throat.
Instead, I checked my magazine and fell into formation.
They'd understand.
They always did.
Gregor didn't need to say anything more. His actions spoke louder than words.
He and the others were here to help me, support me, because I was one of them. I was in deep shit, but that would be handled later.
Together, we cleared the warehouse.
"Leave the ugly one alive!" I yelled.
"I'm going to need you to be more specific," Damien replied.
Mateo broke out of cover and ran.
"That one," I said.
"Then go get him, cousin," Gregor answered.
Together, we worked our way through the rest of the warehouse.
I didn't locate Mateo. The little weasel was surprisingly good at hiding.
We moved room by room, clearing the warehouse, leaving nothing but bodies piled for the flies and rats to find.
"Where did he find all these fuckers?"
"The same place they found the men who raided our compound," Artem said. "They hired a bunch of locals."
Damien made a low groan of agreement in the back of his throat, then used a handheld radio to talk to the snipers. Mikhail would be one of them, and since he was injured, Pavel would be the other.
"We are still looking for the girl but get the supplies ready. We are going to firebomb this fucker when we are done."