I throw open the door that’s already been kicked in and now hangs partially off its hinges. My stomach turns when I find my youngest brothers, Sandro and Raf, huddled together on the floor.
It takes a moment for me to process what’s happening as Sandro crouches protectively over his twin, his arms wrapped around Raf’s shoulders as if to hold him upright.
Then I see Raf’s wife slumped limply in Raf’s arms. Blood coats her throat and chest so thickly, I know without asking that she’s already beyond helping.
Raf releases another agonized howl, and Sandro grips his shoulders tighter, his gaze wheeling wildly around the room, desperately searching for some way to ease his twin’s inconsolable grief. Our eyes meet, and my heart wrenches as I see the panic in my most stoic brother’s face.
Before I can ask what happened, someone slams into me from behind, the force knocking me forward half a step before I whirl, drawing my knife in the same motion.
Gio, our middle brother, freezes as his throat finds the tip of my blade. His eyes widen, his hands coming up in surrender, and I immediately lower my knife.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“I came as soon as I heard that cry,” he says, leaning around me to find the source of Raf’s agony, then his face visibly pales. “Oh, Raf,” he breathes, stepping into the room as remorse clouds his eyes.
I glance out into the hall, scanning for any potential threats coming our way.
For the most part, this side of the house still seems decently intact and fairly empty compared to the main hall.
But from the sounds of the screams rapidly dying down, I know that our battle is lost.
We didn’t stand a chance against the force that came for us.
If we want to live, it’s time to retreat.
But we’re still missing Leo.
“We need to go,” I state gruffly, turning back to my brothers.
Gio looks at me skeptically, his eyes shifting back to Raf, who sobs brokenly over the body of his young new bride. Then he meets my gaze and gives a grim nod.
“Have you seen Leo?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair as I weigh the odds that he’s still alive.
Even if they’re slim, I can’t leave him behind. “Wait here. I’ll go find him. If I’m not back in half an hour, leave without me.”
Gio swallows hard. “And Father?”
My mouth tastes like bitter poison as I shake my head. “Pyotr Novikov put a bullet in his head,” I state flatly.
Then I turn and leave the room, our cold new reality stirring around me like a winter storm.
The life I know is gone, the man I served without question murdered in cold blood.
Our home has been ripped apart, our family cast into anarchy.
In one fell swoop, my world has been blown apart.
And all I can think of is killing the man responsible… oh so slow and torturously.
2
ANIKA
“Now that, brothers, is what I call sweet victory,” Pyotr says, his voice booming through the house as the front door opens with such force it makes the paintings rattle against the wall.
