Page 88 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

Timothy was ripped from her hands, screaming, and a savage kick was aimed at her. She fell face down, her body curling up on itself as blow after blow came.

Bile rose up in my throat. He was going to kick her to death right in front of me.

“Lily,” Timothy screamed, and I ripped my eyes away from Lily to find him being bundled into the arms of a waiting man hovering by the stage curtains. I knew his reputation. I knew what was going to happen if I let him alone with my son for even a second. The choice was an impossible one.

They both needed me. But I could only go and save one right now. And really, it was no choice. My son had to be saved first. I had to just pray that Lily could hold her own for a few more minutes.

Bending low, I ran. No one paid me any attention because they were too busy enjoying the show up on stage, where Lily was being forced to strip for their amusement. And the things Piotre was saying to her, disgusting things that made me feel sick. I was going to cut his tongue out of his vile mouth just for thinking them.

Once I had Timothy in safe hands, I would make them regret ever having looked at Lily Ridgeway.

Heading quickly, I came up before the podgy man silently. And this time, I didn’t shoot him. I wanted him to suffer in his last moments. I wanted him to know exactly who killed him.

I slit his throat, opening a wide gash from ear to ear. He gargled, clutching his throat, and dropped Timothy. I caught him instinctively.

“Daddy.” There were splashes of blood on his face, but I couldn’t think of that now.

“Close your eyes.”

“You came. Lily said you’d come,” he said and quickly closed his eyes, screwing his little face up. I brushed my lips against his hair. “Always.” Handing him to the man behind me, I narrowed my eyes. “Is it done?”

“Every exit is locked and covered. No one is getting in.” His eyes gleamed. “Or out.” He added.

I nodded. “Good.”

Now that I knew my son was safe, I turned back to the stage. My woman, the love of my life and my second chance at happiness, was under the unforgiving spotlight. She stood there nude, her arms trying to cover herself as disgusting men bid on her.

Twenty million dollars to hurt, torture, and murder an innocent woman so that they could hurt me. I moved around the back, coming to stand right behind her and Piotre. My arm looped around her waist, and I dragged her back into the safety of my chest.

Lily thrashed, fighting like a crazy woman. Her head snapped back and landed on the bridge of my nose, which exploded in a shower of pain.

“Lily.” The pain barely registered. She was a fighter. My brave and beautiful Lily. “It’s me, it’s—“

She sagged in my arms just as Poitre turned. Keeping her tucked into the side of me, I sliced into his stomach with so much force that his guts tumbled out and he fell to his knees. From the wings, his brother, the sadistic Dominik, wailed and rushed forward.

A shot rang out from behind me. Someone took his knee cap out, and he fell to the floor. Good. I wanted them alive long enough to see the suffering in their eyes. Every single person here was going to die screaming.

“Daniil?” Lily swayed where she stood, almost like she couldn’t believe her eyes. She reached for my face.

“I’m here. Let’s get you home.” Without hesitation, I swung her up into my arms and carried her like a baby.

“Timothy?” she croaked.

“Right here. It’s over, Lily. It’s finally over.” Or at least it would be soon. I just had to get them home and to safety, and then I was going to finish this once and for all.

They were safe. That’s what I kept telling myself, but it frightened me to even close my eyes for more than a second, even though I knew no one was going to snatch them from their beds in my own home.

All the people who had hurt them were dead. Well, all but one, and I had a solid lead on the man who had started all of this. He would be dead in the ground before long as well. Or maybe I would bury him alive. I hadn’t decided yet.

“Daniil?” In the darkness of the predawn night, Lily’s voice was a small whisper. My head jerked around, and I found her staring at me from her place in the middle of the bed, her eyes wide and staring in the dim light.

“I’m here.” Reaching out, I touched her cheek, and surprisingly, she didn’t flinch back, and that shocked me.

“How are you feeling?” I asked softly. My eye darting from her to my son sleeping next to her. I had wanted to move him to his own room, but they had clung together, and I hadn’t had the heart to pull them apart. If it helped both of them sleep peacefully for a few hours, they could stay together.

Hell, they could stay together for as long as they needed each other, which by the look of it was going to be a long, long time.

“Like I’ve been beaten,” she admitted with a pained sigh that broke my heart all over again. “How is Timothy?”