It was imperative to get under my family’s protection. My brain couldn’t even process the gravity of my situation and its dire consequences.
It was self-defense, but self-defense didn’t matter when it came to the mafia.
Viktor Koshkin was not only a high-ranking official of the Moscow mob, he was also its pakhan’s brother. Whether Viktor was dead, clinging to life, or suffering lasting damage remained to be seen.
Vehicles zooming back and forth on the roadway twenty yards uphill to my left drowned out the rustling noise of thewoods. I peered around the tree one more time before I resumed walking briskly, sometimes jogging. I wasn’t going to flag down a vehicle, but I should reach a town soon where I could call for help. The crime family hotline had been the same ever since I could remember, but it was the first time I was using it.
It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.I repeated those thoughts in my head.
I tried to block out the state trooper’s face. Thankfully, I had no image of Bruce Davenport’s lifeless body. A shiver ran through me. But the feeling was there. Dammit. Maybe it was time to give up this fixer shit and put the law degree to a better use. I fixed political scandals and protected the reputation of my clients.
Bruce Davenport was running for the senate. He had the money, the connections, and a beautiful wife. But he had one weakness. His male lover. He’d been ready to throw it all away for love and divorce his wife. A critical blow during the election year with accusations of adultery paving the way.
The Moscow mob made its position known by sending Viktor Koshkin.
Davenport’s lover disappeared.
The blast of a rig horn tore through the night, followed by the screeching of brakes.
It was a relief to have the sound of traffic for company.
But when it all died down, a whiff of alarm raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I whipped around, heart slamming into my throat.
Behind a tree, a silhouette of a man emerged.
No.
Without hesitation, I fired.
A force knocked my arm upwards, and my gun went flying. At first I thought the recoil of the gun got me, but I was yankedagainst a hard chest. A thick vise applied brutal pressure to my neck.
I struggled, kicked out, and before I could scream, I started to lose consciousness. My nails dug into the unrelenting arm depriving my brain of blood.
“Now you’re mine to deal with,Lyutsiferka,” a familiar voice said in my ear.
And as blackness claimed my vision, I wondered if it would have been better if Viktor had killed me.
Chapter
Two
Lucy
I wokeup gasping for air and with a fire in my nostrils.
“Wake up.”
Through the film of tears, I made out Kirill’s looming, forbidding shape. I blinked, gasped some more, and tried to shake out the burn streaking up my nose.
“What the fuck?” I choked. “What was that?”
“You were taking too long to wake up. I grew impatient.”
He tossed something on the coffee table. I sat up on a wide leather couch as if that would give me leverage over his…six-three? Six-four frame. We were in a room paneled with dark wood. Behind him, an overhead rectangular light fixture illuminated the area through warm-toned stained glass.
I glared at him. “Smelling salts?” The events of the night resurfaced in my mind, and I dipped my chin to avoid the chill in his eyes because it set off a creepy-crawly sensation down my spine. “You knocked me out.”
He shrugged. “Blood choke.”
