Page 57 of The Russian's Bought Bride

I choose to ignore him, which is enough of an answer.

A renewed smugness flashes across his face, but to his credit, he doesn’t push too hard. Instead, he pockets his phone and says, “Alexei started walking already.”

That pulls my attention properly, gladly latching onto the topic change. “Yeah?”

A rare grin spreads across Ivan’s face then, softer than I usually see from him, which can only mean this is especially important to him. “Mila says he’s a menace, and I have to agree.”

“Runs in the family.”

“Unfortunately,” he says with a fond chuckle.

There’s something grounding about hearing him talk about his son and other normal things. It almost feels surreal sometimes, finding ourselves standing in the middle of criminal operations while discussing diapers and toddler tantrums. But that’s how our lives work, and how they always will.

Family intertwined with violence is impossible to separate.

“You should see him with Roman,” Ivan continues, amusement threading through his voice now. “He’s completely wrapped around his finger. I’m waiting for them to start conspiring.”

I’ve seen Roman with the little ones enough times not to be surprised. As intimidating as he is, kids love him, and he’s not any stronger against them. Roman Lukov, the terrifying head of our operation, is reduced to weakness by a baby.

“That sounds like blackmail material,” I mutter.

“It absolutely is.”

For a moment, things feel almost normal, and I half expect this thing to go down without any issues.

Then headlights appear at the far end of the lot, and at first, I assume it’s the associate we’ve been waiting on.

That is, until they come in too fast, with more vehicles than anticipated. The flatbed flying in through the gate isn’t remotely big enough for what needs to be moved, and it bypasses our security without missing a beat.

Every instinct in my body sharpens instantly, and I’m already reaching for my pistol.

Ivan sees it too as his expression hardens while multiple black SUVs follow the truck and gun it toward the warehouse.

“Heads up!” I call out, getting into a defensive position behind the vehicle now as our guys do the same, taking cover while they watch.

The vehicles come to a screeching halt, and the doors swing open. Armed men spill out, immediately flooding the area and opening fire.

One closest to us aims at no one in particular with his black sleeves pulled up, and I catch a glimpse of a familiar insignia tattooed on his forearm. I recognize it immediately.

They’re Malenkov’s. I’ve seen that mark enough times now.

My jaw clenches hard enough to ache as I raise my pistol and set off a few shots before ducking again, catching as my brother prepares himself to do the same.

“So he really did figure it out,” Ivan says coldly beside me.

Grigori Malenkov finally connected the dots and accomplished the very thing I never wanted him to.

Gunshots crack through the lot as chaos detonates, pulling us into the fold. Without the chance to respond, I focus on the targets ahead, watching their every move.

Noticing one of our guys in the line of fire, I drag him behind a stack of crates before taking aim again. Before long, the smell of gunpowder floods the air as shouting erupts across the loading bay.

Ivan and I are barking orders without registering them, locked in on the bastards attempting to storm the place. We keep cover for as long as we can before returning the favor, sending as many rounds their way as possible.

Vegas nightlife hums somewhere beyond the warehouse while bullets rip through steel and ricochet off the concrete. Two completely different worlds are separated by a few blocks, and those here to forget about life are none the wiser.

Ivan drops a man near the trucks with brutal efficiency while our people push outward fast, able to clear a path and force Malenkov’s men to lose ground before they can properly lock the place down.

But as I watch their movements, they don’t seem to be pushing hard in the first place. Instead, they’re keeping us preoccupied, acting like they’re advancing before withdrawing again.