GIOVANNI
Iknow him the second I see his face clearly.
The cut of his cheekbones. The restless eyes. The way he holds the gun like he’s eager for an excuse.
And that hideous red shirt.
“Sasha Pavlov,” I say.
His smile sharpens. “Look at that. The Don knows my name.”
“The Pavlovs’ bastard runt,” I add. “Recently legitimized. Congratulations.”
Amber stiffens when he moves.
Sasha’s arm snaps around her, dragging her back against his chest, the gun pressing hard into her side.
Fury flashes through me, hot and sharp. “Let her go, you piece of shit.”
“Don’t think so, Loverboy.”
Amber gasps, but she doesn’t scream. Brave girl. Of course, she no longer has to be. I am here now. I should have been here sooner to protect her.
Rage mounts inside me. I want to shove a bullet between Sasha’s eyes just for putting that expression on her face. Want to watch him fucking burn.
But he has her, and he knows it.
“Drop it,” he tells me. “Nice and slow.”
Amber shakes her head frantically. “Don’t,” she begs. “Please don’t.”
My pulse hammers, but my hand stays steady on the grip.
If I shoot, I risk her. If I don’t, I lose her.
There is no choice that doesn’t cost something.
But one look at Amber’s face tells me the hard truth.
I will never be able to pull the trigger. Not as long as there’s a chance I could harm her.
I lower the gun.
Sasha grins. “Good boy.”
He pulls the trigger.
The shot tears past my shoulder, hot and close. Pain flares, sharp but shallow. A graze. The fact he couldn’t kill me at this distance tells me exactly why no one put his name forth for the leadership of the Pavlov Bratva.
The second I’m hurt, Amber moves.
She drives her elbow back into Sasha’s gut, hard enough to knock the air out of him. Before he can recover, she brings her hand up and slams it forward.
The key is still clenched between her fingers.
It disappears into his eye.
“That’s for my sister,” she snarls. “You fucking piece of shit!”
