Page 112 of The Bratva King

I glance in the rearview mirror again. Luke is looking out the window, unaware.

I have to protect him, no matter what. Even if that means telling Nikolai the truth about who I really am.

And what happens if he tells us to leave?

26

Nikolai

The tournament will start on schedule. It cost me fifty grand in expedited inspections and another twenty to make sure the right people signed off on the right paperwork.

Money talks. It always does.

Pasha walks up beside me with his phone pressed to his ear. He’s been on calls all afternoon, smoothing over the VIP guests who got soaked and reassuring sponsors that the tournament will go on as planned. He’s better at that than I am. I don’t have the patience for hand-holding.

He ends the call and slides the phone into his pocket. “We’re good. Everyone’s staying. Nobody’s pulling out.”

“Good.”

“The media’s spinning it as a minor incident. No major coverage. We dodged that bullet.”

We didn’t dodge anything. Someone tried to embarrass me in front of the world, and they almost succeeded. The only reason it’s not worse is that my team is competent.

“You ready to go?” Pasha asks.

“Yeah.”

He texts my driver, letting him know we’re ready. We head toward the front entrance. The late afternoon heat hits us as we step outside.

My driver is just pulling around. The SUV is maybe forty feet away when it explodes into flames.

The force of it knocks me sideways, and I feel the heat. I’m knocked on my back, and my head bounces off the pavement. Debris rains on me. I instinctively roll to my stomach, protecting my head with my arms. My ears are ringing. Everything is muffled and far away. My vision swims for a second.

And then things go quiet. Almost like someone pushed pause on the world. I roll and sit up.

The SUV is engulfed in flames. Black smoke pours into the sky. I can see what’s left of the frame, twisted and burning.

Fuck. My driver was inside.

I get to my feet. One of my security guys grabs my arm and pulls me back. He’s shouting something, but I can’t hear him over the ringing in my ears.

I shake him off and look around.

Pasha.

He’s on the ground a few feet away, not moving.

“Pasha!”

I rush to him, dropping to my knees and checking for injuries. There’s blood on the side of his head. His eyes are closed.

“Pasha, wake up.” I tap his cheek lightly. “Come on.”

Nothing.

I press my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It’s there. Steady.

Fuck. He’s alive.