“No.”
“Neither she nor I were asking your permission,” Gavriil replies.
Dominik absorbs that—not with a flinch, but like the weight hits him full force, causing him to stagger back a step, pulling me by my hand with him.
While the brothers are having their showdown, mine is quietly, slowly, slinking toward the shittiest car in the lot, taking advantage of the distraction.
“The answer is still no. I won’t let you take her,” Dominik declares.
Gavriil sighs as if he’s genuinely regretful. Then he crooks two fingers toward me. “Come, Alina.”
I stand up on my tiptoes to give Dominik one final kiss on his cheek before I pull my hand from his and walk away from him. I make it two steps before Dominik tries to follow.
His men and Gavriil’s all move at once. Gavriil watches the clash without pride, just calculation. It makes me understand exactly how deep the difference runs between the two brothers.
Dominik is beautiful when he’s violent, but when he widens his stance to block a blow, his breath hitches as if his stitches are screaming at him.
I want to touch him. To help him.
But I can’t.
Three men surround him. He hits the ground, hard. I loathe that there are hands on him that aren’t mine. My mouth fills with the taste of panic.
“Stop it!” I grit out. “Make them stop, Gavriil! It’s over!”
“Enough,” Gavriil says, irritatingly calm. Everyone freezes except for Dominik who still tries to throw off the men flattening him to the pavement.
“Alina,” Dominik rasps. My name sounds like gravel. “Don’t go anywhere with him. Please. I love you. I’d rather be dead than watch you leave with him!”
His words hit me so hard I sway.
But I don’t break.
“Now you understand why I have to go.” My heart aches so sharply I can barely breathe. “I am choosing you. I just have to do this, to keep you and Archer both alive.”
His eyes close once, like that truth lances him open. I turn my back on him and finally walk the rest of the way to Gavriil.
“It’s sweet,” Gavriil says with contempt. “I almost remember what it was to be sentimental.”
When I reach his side, Gavriil grabs my arm, jerking me in front of his body. His arm bands across my chest and arms, pining me against the front of his body, his expensive cologne suddenly overwhelming me. It’s almost like I’m being wrapped up in a warm hug, before I feel the unmistakable pressure of his gun muzzle kissing my temple.
Dominik looks up from the ground and freezes. “What are you doing?”
“Bring me the traitor,” Gavriil commands.
I expect his men to lift Dominik off the ground.
They sprint after Archer instead.
My brother tries to jump into the vehicle’s driver seat and crank the engine, but Gavriil’s men are faster. They open the doors on either side, so he’s trapped, then one yanks him out of the car by his arm and drags him all the way across the floor to us while he curses and fights.
“The rat really thought he could get away so easily,” Gavriil remarks from behind me, his gun hand steady.
“Let him go, Gavriil. We had a deal,” I say, as if I hold any power at the moment.
He hums and says, “I agreed thatIwouldn’t kill or hurt Archer. However, Dominik did not.”
What? What is he talking about?
