Page 173 of Bleed with Me

“Was it you?” He approached him with a murderous expression. “You hit her?”

“Please, no!”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.”

Bang. The bullet went to his other knee.

“Dorian!” I yelled, looking at Zyon, who casually leaned against the wall as if he was watching a boring show. “Dorian, stop. Please!”

I grabbed his arm with the gun, refusing to let go.

“Which one of them hit you?” he shouted, the crazy edge in his voice sending ice down my spine.

“The dead one!” I blurted out, unsure what else to say to stop him.

“What?” A frown contorted his features. “Why the fuck are you lying to me, Nina?”

“Because you’re acting like a maniac,” I snapped, breathing hard.

“Maniac?” he echoed, incredulity dripping from his tongue, but he at least lowered his gun. “Your own father kidnapped you. His men dared to hit you, and I’m the maniac?”

“You can’t just shoot them all because they hurt me,” I whispered, taken aback by the agitation lacing his words.

“Watch me.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three men hit the floor one by one, all dead. My father stared at them in absolute terror, the only surviving guard quietly sobbing on the floor.

“S-satisfied?” I stammered, registering the tremor of my hands and the shaking of my knees. The scene almost paralyzed me.

“No,” Dorian replied flatly. “Now I want the man responsible for this.”

Pure dread washed over my body as my gaze crashed into Dad’s. For the first time since I’d known him, I saw fear strip away every layer he hid behind. The calculating capo. The composed negotiator. The father who always believed he could outplay everyone in the room.

Gone.

He finally understood the mistake he’d made. He didn’t kidnap the wife of an ordinary man. He took the one person standing between Dorian Zhumagulov and whatever monster he managed to keep on a leash.

“Dorian, please.” I stood between him and my father, glancing into his emotionless, glassy eyes. The memory of him smashing the window in his bathroom resurfaced like a lifeline, giving me an idea. I could calm him. I knew I could, if he just let me in.

“Baby,” I said as gently as my trembling voice and shock allowed. “He’s my dad. He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

Tenderly, I took his free hand, noticing how tightly, almost as if in a cramp, he clutched his gun with the other. But his breathing was so calm I barely registered it, and his face was an empty mask.

He’d never reminded me of Malin more than in this moment. The destructive mode his mind switched to had to be reversed, or he would kill the only family I had.

“Please,” I whispered, closing the space between us inch by terrifying inch. “Don’t kill him.”

Dorian tilted his head.

“He deserves worse than death.” His large hand cupped my chin. “No one hurts what’s mine.” He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine. “No one takes away what’s mine.”

A shaky breath left my lips as he brushed his thumb against my cheek. The touch of his skin against mine sent tingles through my entire body, steadily erasing the horror I’d witnessed.

“You have no idea what you’re doing!” Dad’s shouting burst our little bubble. My head whipped toward him as two of Zyon’s men approached him and grabbed his arms. “You have no right—”