Triston grimaces. “We still don’t know how Sver got in the last time, but he came through the front door. There should be men to stop him before he makes it back up to the penthouse.”
Triston is excellent at the company’s risk management. But this plan creates two weaker fronts. “Any general would tell you, troops should rarely be divided.”
“We are fighting two enemies.”
“Still unclear,” I growl back. I know he’s likely right. But it’s not confirmed. And while Sver is here in Vegas, we have no idea where Ivan is currently located.
All reasons we’re stronger together.
“Here in Vegas,” Triston starts through gritted teeth, “I am the CEO.”
I glare. Triston, as second oldest, has always chafed under my authority. He opens his mouth, gearing up for a lecture on his authority.
But he never gets a chance.
A loud blast sounds through the room.
I spin, diving on top of Katarina, my body covering hers as dust fills the air.
“Win!” Triston shouts.
“Here. Everyone else?”
Each of my brothers calls out as the dust settles. But as the air clears, I see two men on the balcony. The glass held through the blast, but in unison, they kick out, sending the entire frame crashing in.
I roll Katarina off the couch and onto the floor, covering her again, as my brothers rush the intruders.
“Holy shit,” Katarina gasps under me.
“Are you all right?” I call back, soldier crawling toward the bedroom. Her arms are hooked around my neck, and I drag her with me as I go, trying to remove her from the fray.
Her arm must be killing her, but she answers, “I’m fine.”
The butt of the pistol she still holds digs into my neck. Rush was right to give it to her. Her head lifts and I know she’s watching for enemies, ready to strike. She’s literally got my back.
But that’s when another crash fills the room. The door to the stairwell bursts off the hinges, crashing into the kitchen.
I drop again, my arms caging Katarina’s head as my body presses hers into the floor.
I can’t see anyone. I have no idea who is attacking, who is alive, and who is dead.
But just as I start toward the bedroom again, just trying to get Katarina out of the room, I hear a voice boom, “Ivan!”
I look to my left and Ivan stands fifteen feet away, his gun trained at my head.
To my right is Sver, his gun drawn as well.
I rip the pistol from my belt, pointing it at Ivan.
At the exact moment, Katarina points hers at Sver.
“Kitten,” I growl. She can’t kill either of these men. It’s a deep feeling. It’s my job to bear those kinds of scars. She should never.
“It’s me and you until the end,” she gasps, her gaze fixed on Sver.
“Katarina,” Sver’s gaze darts to her. “My daughter.” Katarina hesitates then, her arm dropping as she shivers underneath me.
“She’s always been mine,” Ivan spits. “Give her to me.”
