But I didn't stop. I saw him reaching for Olga again. I scrambled forward on hands and knees and threw my body in front of her.
"Don't touch her!" I screamed, my voice cracking with fear, but I didn't move. "She's just a patient! You bastards!"
The man steadied himself and smiled—a bloodthirsty grin. The black muzzle lifted slowly, pointing at my face.
"So fucking naive." He sneered. "In that case, I'll end you first."
Behind me, Olga shouted something in Russian, trying to pull me away. "Harper! Move! Don't worry about me!"
"No!" I spread my arms wide and shut my eyes. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my split lip and dripping onto the floor.
What a shitty way to die. I never imagined I'd go out like this—caught in a random shootout on the Valentine's Day I was supposed to confess.
I hadn't saved enough for Aiden's surgery yet.
Hadn't worn that little black dress I'd been eyeing in the window for three months.
Hadn't given Kirill that confession card I'd written and rewritten.
"Next life, mind your own business."
The gun fired.
The deafening blast exploded in the cramped storage room. I flinched, every muscle locking up, waiting for the bullet to tear through me.
But the pain never came.
I cracked one eye open, trembling.
The gunman who'd pointed his weapon at me collapsed slowly. A red hole bloomed in the center of his forehead. His eyes stayed wide open, like he couldn't believe what had happened.
As he fell, the man behind him came into view.
That face—sharp as a Greek sculpture, cold and perfect—had haunted my dreams countless times. He wore a black cashmere coat, collar slightly open, a handgun in his hand. The barrel pointed at the floor. Casual. Effortless. Deadly.
It was Kirill.
Kirill Orlov.
The recipient of the Valentine's card in my pocket.
Chapter Two
Kirill
Most people would've pissed themselves by now. Or gone into full-blown hysterics.
But this woman—Harper, the caregiver who couldn't even look me in the eye most days—stood there with her arms spread wide, shielding my grandmother Olga like a human shield.
She was shaking like a leaf. Made her body even more noticeable.
I swear I never thought twice about my grandmother's nurse, but I'm still a man. And I could appreciate what she was working with.
"You're safe now." I let myself stare a bit longer before dragging my eyes away. "It's over."
The sound of my voice seemed to snap whatever was holding her together. She slid down the wall and collapsed.
"Kirill?"
