Chapter 166 168

Chapter 166 168
I know if she pins me down, I won’t get back up. So I throw all of my weight to one side and roll. It gives me enough space to pull my right leg up and then kick straight back with the heel of my foot.

Francia’s knee snaps awkwardly under my foot. Things that aren’t supposed to move go pop-pop-pop. Even I wince.

Her shriek echoes off the high ceilings as I crawl away on my hands and knees. My head is still spinning from the blow earlier, so standing up isn’t an option. I just need to get far enough away to—

Then there’s a cold hand around my ankle.

Francia rakes her fingernails into my skin. I try to kick, but she throws herself on top of my legs, pinning me down to the floor.

Francia’s breathing gets louder as she scrambles over me. Ivan is going to find me dead on his entryway floor. Maybe Francia will lie in wait and attack him, too. He’ll drop to his knees next to my corpse in horror and that’s when she’ll strike. He’ll still probably be able to fight her off, but he’ll never forgive himself for letting me die.

That thought is scarier than realizing I’m about to die. And I muster up one last burst of energy.

I haul myself up onto my arms, pull my legs in as fast as I can, and throw myself forward. It only puts a few feet of space between me and Francia. It’s not enough, I know that.

But at least I tried.

I hope Ivan knows I tried.

Francia rears back to launch herself at me again… just as shots ring out.

She drops flat on the floor, but I spin around looking for the source. Yasha? Ivan? Maybe even Niles? Ivan told me his household staff is trained for emergency situations like this.

Maybe someone came to save me.

Then I turn and see my dad standing in the hallway, his gun pointed at the ceiling.

“Stay the fuck away from my daughter.”

There’s a hole in the ceiling and plaster dust raining down in a white haze.

A few hours ago, he showed up carrying flowers and taggy. Now, he’s holding a gun. It’s hard to reconcile the two sides of him. But it doesn’t matter. He’s here. I’m safe.

So why doesn’t it feel that way? Something still seems wrong. Francia is still lying flat on the floor. My dad is sighing with relief and setting the gun down on the ground. A hole in the ceiling is smoking.

It takes me a second to put together the pieces.

Then it hits me. He fired a warning shot.

Which means he didn’t hurt Francia.

Which means she shouldn’t be lying motionless on the floor.

My dad is moving towards me, leaving the gun behind. I see it all happen in slow motion. He’s holding a hand out to help me up, but behind him, Francia lifts herself up. She doesn’t stand all the way up because she doesn’t need to. She can reach what she needs to while lying down.

She picks up the gun in her hand and, unlike my dad, she isn’t pointing at the ceiling. She’s pointing it at his back.

Without a word, she fires.

Unlike him, she doesn’t start with a warning shot. No remorse. No chance to give up.

Francia pulls the trigger and my dad jerks and crumples to the floor.

“Dad!” I reach out for him, but my head spins. I think I have a concussion, but if I don’t get to him, things are going to be so much worse.

I can’t put one foot in front of the other, but I try anyway. I lift myself to my knees and the world is yanked out from under my feet. I fall sideways with my shoulder pressed to the wall.

Francia’s shadow falls over me. She scoffs. “What Ivan sees in you, I will never fucking know.”

Then something heavy hits my temple. The world goes dark.

The last thing I see is the blood on my father’s shirt.

62

IVAN

I hear the gunshot before I’m even out of the car.

I slam the car into park and throw the door open without turning the engine off. Please, for the love of fucking God, let it be Niles fighting back. Or Marcus. Or a guard. Anyone but Francia.

But the shattered remains of the gates at the mouth of the driveway were enough of a hint as to how this is going to go. The empty guard shack made it a near-certainty.

Francia is here. And somehow, she found her way to Cora.

Knowing that doesn’t change the full-body ache that ripples through me when I make it inside and see Francia with her arm around Cora’s neck… and a gun pressed to her head.

“Don’t take another fucking step,” she hisses.

Cora is alive. Her eyes are closed and there’s a bump on her forehead, but I can see her chest moving. Francia wouldn’t be threatening to kill her if she was already dead.

As long as her heart is beating, there’s a chance.

“Let her go and you can walk out of here intact.” My voice is tight, but it isn’t shaking. A miracle, given the adrenaline pumping through me.

If I don’t save her, I’ll never forgive myself.

Francia cackles. There are dark circles under her eyes. It doesn’t look like she’s slept in days. Actually, it looks like she died and came back from the dead. Whatever happened to her in Moscow before she killed the guards and fled, it wasn’t pretty.

“We’ve been through too much to lie to each other, Ivan. We both know I’m not walking out of here.”

“Fine.” I nod. “If you back away from my wife right now, I’ll give you a quick death.”

It’s way more than she deserves after all of the carnage and chaos she has caused.

If Cora can get the gun away from her head, even for a second, then I can take my shot. But right now, the risk that Francia takes Cora down with her is too great.

“Your wife.” Her lip curls in disgust and I watch her hand tighten around Cora’s throat.

Wake up, solnishka. Fight back.

Cora doesn’t budge. But her chest is still moving.