Keith is older than me, I’d say he’s about thirty-five to forty, though his build tells a different story. He lifts weights daily and he trains with Cove at least four times a week. The man is so rigorous with his food intake, watching everything he putsin his mouth. He’s extremely good at what he does, which he proves in the next few seconds. Despite the two men carrying weapons and having them pointed directly at Keith’s head, they find themselves without guns in the blink of an eye. Keith lunges forward, catching them both by surprise. One of his hands grabs one gun from the man on the left and shoots the man’s gun straight out of his hand.
Knowing that Keith has everything under control, I move forward, taking down another couple of people as I go. This is why being outnumbered never scared me. It doesn’t matter if you have a thousand-man army against four people, if the four are more skilled, with a better game plan, and territory advantage then the numbers are irrelevant. A dozen soldiers might get lucky, but the four people they’re up against don’t need to count on luck. They count on their deep knowledge of the battle, keen senses of detecting danger, and strategic planning on how to make even the worst-case scenario work in their favor.
That’s why I’m standing in the middle of what used to be my living room, with at least twelve dead bodies around me. There are many more scattered all around the premises, and the sound of bullets flying outside, only tells me our men have that part covered too. At this point, I can plant a bed of dead men in Mom’s garden, and they’d bloom.
My breathing is heavy, the adrenaline still running hot in my veins. A look of satisfaction crosses my features at the sight in front of me, a couple of droplets of sweat sliding down my forehead. My feet are covered in blood, when I walk, all that is left behind are my footprints in a gorgeous, deep shade of maroon. This is going to be such a hassle to clean, but I’m so fucking happy it’s almost over.
Dad’s still on top of Flint, punching and knocking teeth out. I walk upstairs, carefully stepping around any dead bodies I spot, reaching Aria’s side. I pull her in a side hug, and that’s when she snaps out of the haze.
“He’s alive,” she whispers.
“I know.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “You knew?!”
I flinch. “Yes, but—”
“It’s fine,” Aria interrupts, eyes falling to Dad again. “I know he probably forced you to keep quiet.”
My mouth opens, then I clamp it shut. That’s definitely not how this went down, but you know what? This is his fault, really. He can take the fall for this one, and it’s his consequence to deal with. I’m throwing him under the bus.
“You’re absolutely right. He did force me to keep quiet. I’m sorry.”
Aria sighs. “I’ll figure it out with him. I’m not mad at you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Thanks, Squirt.”
Dad finally pulls back from Flint, his breathing ragged. The man beneath him is dead. Fucking hell, Dad made quite the mess. One of Flint’s eyes has been blown out of the socket, his teeth embedded into Dad’s knuckles, and his breathing non-existent.
Three down, two to go.
TWENTY-TWO
The dark night settled over New York a while ago. My anxiety is at its peak, the high that’s rushing through my veins making my stomach twist and turn in anticipation. Kaya’s in the driver’s seat, her eyes glued straight ahead. Meanwhile, I sit next to her, unsure of how the night will go. My palms grow sweaty with each turn Kaya takes, my heart thumping loudly inside of my chest. We’ve barely spoken a word since we left the studio, and I don’t think I have any words to say.
“Did Arnault ever get back to you?”
Kaya’s question catches me off guard, and with a sigh, I shake my head. My eyes fall on her side profile, and yet again, I find myself admiring the beauty of this woman. All women are beautiful, but there’s something terrifyingly gorgeous aboutSlavic women that makes me feel intimidated by her mere presence.
“Not yet,” I breathe out. “I did send him a message when we left, though. He knows he has less than a day to respond to me, or I’m going through with the plan on my own.”
Kaya nods, though she doesn’t look at me. “Tell me what you need from me, though.”
“Fuck, the favors you end up asking of me will be my doom, huh?”
Kaya laughs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll feel generous and you’ll just have to treat me to lunch.”
I quirk a brow. “Seriously though, you’ve been extremely helpful. Why? I’m not someone who is well-connected, or wealthy. If this isn’t about favors, why are you doing this?”
Kaya’s lips tug into a small smirk. She takes her sweet, sweet time responding, briefly glancing at me. I’m expecting some sort of a grand answer, something that will satisfy the curiosity inside of me. But I should know better than to think Kaya’s easy to read.
“I’m bored.”
I blink, taken aback. “What?”
She hums. “Aleksei is dealing with his shit, and caring for Daisy. My other brother went back to Russia, because believe it or not, maintaining a castle is a full ass task. My twin brother is God knows where, doing God knows what. And that leaves me… utterly and completely bored.”
I chuckle. “How… gracious of you to use me to cure your boredom. Did it help at least?”
