Chapter Twenty-Six
Katya
Nik clutched a hand to his chest as I scrambled up from behind him to gently lay him down in the sand. He didn’t fight me, his face ashen and his lips drawn tightly. I screamed as blood blossomed across his white shirt like an ink stain in water. My hands grappled with the material, tugging it out of the way so that I could press a palm against his wound and try to stem the blood.
“What have you done?” I turned and yelled up at Viktor, grief and fury pouring through my body. Viktor glared down at me; his jaw locked tightly.
I looked back at Nik, taking his hand and moving it over the bullet hole. “Press here, you have to press here,” I whispered to him, tears streaming down my cheeks. And then I looked once again at the man who’d hurt Nik. Who’d hurtmyNik. “I will kill you.” I bit out, venom in my words. I tore a strip of material from my dress and pressed it against the blossoming red on Nik’s chest.
Viktor spat at the ground between us, his dark eyebrows pulled low as he gazed at me in the same way all mafia men looked at the women; with pity, with confidence, with amusement. Because we were nothing to fear. We were objects to be controlled. We were the beauty on their arms. The mother of their children.
I wiped my bloodied hands down my white dress, smearing red stains down the sides of it as I stood up. I took a step towards Viktor, my eyes blazing with rage. I thought of Nik’s words to me this week. How I didn’t let anyone tell me what to do. How I didn’t let anyone order me about. No one could decide my future, my choices...my damn husband.
I was a Vasiliev for God’s sake, and Viktor? Viktor was nothing.
“You have made a grave mistake, Viktor,” my father snarled.
Alex was stalking forwards, a look of pure hatred burning in his black eyes, his hand on his gun. He was ready for war. For blood and death and everything in between.
Viktor was barking orders at his men, ordering them to pack his things. Cursing my father and telling him that the deal was off. The millions they were set to make was crushed.
I bent at the waist and reached for the small pistol strapped to my ankle. I hadn’t been able to wear the strappy shoes mother had set out for me because of it, but I’d known deep down I would need it.
Viktor turned to glare at me, a sneer on his mouth. “You may be beautiful but you are not worthy of me.”
“You are nothing,” I snarled, but Viktor was already looking away from me.
“Control your child,” Viktor snapped at my father, but I didn’t hear any more. All I could hear was the furious beating of my own heart and the rampaging rage singing through my muscles.
I gripped the gun, unclipped it from the holder and stood upright, the gun aimed at Viktor. He was focused on my father and not me, and that was his first mistake. I moved closer, the gun pressing against his belly hard enough that he bowed his head to look down at me, his eyes narrowing.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he spat.
“I’m a fucking Vasiliev,” I gritted from between my teeth before firing the gun. “And you will respect our Goddamn name.”
The kickback ricocheted through my arm, but I gripped the front of his shirt and squeezed the trigger again, enjoying how his eyes bulged and his mouth opened on a low moan.
“What have you done?” he whispered as I pushed him backwards onto the sand.
I lifted my chin as I stared down at him. “You have been weighed and measured, Viktor, and you are not worthy ofme.” I aimed the gun once more and fired into the center of his forehead, enjoying the peace I felt as his body stilled.
Guns began to fire around us. Bullets ricocheting off chairs. The roars of men and spilled blood destroying the once tranquil beach. But I didn’t hear anything but Nik’s ragged breathing below me.
I turned to him, dropping back down to my knees. “My love.” The words left my mouth in a single breath as I pulled him from the bloodstained sand and on to my lap.
Nik coughed and smiled, blood covering his teeth as he stared up at me.
“It was worth it, Katya,” he said, his voice weak, “I don’t regret any of it.”
“Stop it, you’re going to be fine,” I said, forcing my tears away.
Another gun went off, the bullet landing too close for comfort. I began to scoot backwards, pulling Nik with me. A stain of blood followed us in the sand, like an arrow to where we were.
I heard my father’s voice.
My brother’s shouts.
His men.
