I unclip my seat belt, ease the door open, and in the next instant the wind tears at me as I throw myself sideways, I hit the grass hard, the world spinning as my shoulder slams, my side screams, and my ribs protest while I roll and roll and roll until my body finally skids to a halt in the shallow ditch.
Three seconds later the explosion cleaves through the air. The blast booms through the forest, and the shockwave ripples through the ground beneath me.
I lie there on my back, my chest heaving as I stare up at the sky, and then I burst out laughing.
I close my eyes, breathing in smoke and adrenaline and the echo of her rage.
“Gorgeous,” I murmur. “You are going to pay for this.”
Chapter 14
Octavia
I keep driving slowly, unable to pull my eyes from the car burning in the distance, watching as the fire consumes it.
I stop a few metres away and turn off the engine.
The moment I step out, the stench of burnt rubber assaults me, and I walk toward the wreckage despite the heat scorching my skin, because I need to see it, need to be certain he is inside, that it is finished, that he will never hurt another girl again.
What if he never did?
The voice whispers at the back of my mind, and I shove it aside, refusing to let the guilt claw its way into me, because I am Death for a reason, and I have never felt anything for my victims beyond the certainty that they deserved it.
This should be no different.
So why the fuck does it feel different now?
Perhaps because I have always been careful, verified my sources, always proven beyond doubt that the men I hunted had truly hurt the innocent.
And this time…
This time I did not.
Because my own rage took control.
I step as close as I can, which is not very close at all because the car is still burning violently, the heat dragging a cough from my lungs as I try to see inside, though I cannot make out a thing, and yet I know well that he had been driving, and no one survives a blast like that.
Soon the authorities will find this, and they will most certainly realise it was no accident.
But I never intended for it to be. I don’t care.
The Bratva is surrounded by enemies, and someone simply managed to catch up with this particular heir.
All that remains now is to dispose of the remote and ensure nothing can ever be traced back to me.
The Thirteenth Circle may face a few inconveniences, but their leader will handle it.
Because after all, one of the Ferrum Syndicate’s heirs dying on our land could easily spark something ugly.
Oh well.
I turn back toward my car, slide into the driver’s seat, and reach for the gear…
Cold steel presses suddenly against the side of my neck.
I narrow my eyes.
“You have nine lives, Markev,” I murmur.
