Chapter 407 409

Chapter 407 409
His father, on the other hand, looks like a man you’d rather die than cross.

“I have to help if I can,” I stammer.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Phoenix’s father says firmly.

There’s at least five feet between me and the nearest Bratva soldier. Which means I’ve got to move fast. Thankfully, I’ve always been a runner. So, rather than answer, I bolt out of the room, just as I hear a loud curse and the stomp of boots pursuing me.

Phoenix is hot on my trail. Unfortunately for him, all those hours of forced treadmill running at Rokiades’s behest has really upped my game. I speed through the corridors towards the other end of the house, leaving him behind.

I’m going so fast that I fly into a random soldier who appears out of nowhere. We slam together and I crash-land on my belly on the floor.

He thumps somewhere adjacent to me, but he’s already twisting around, attempting to shoot. Then he sees Phoenix bursting around the corner and changes aim, eliminating the Greek before he can get his shot off.

You started this, I tell myself. Only you can finish it.

As I continue running through the house, I risk a glance over my shoulder. Phoenix is fighting off two new soldiers. But I’m reassured that he’s not hurt. Matter of fact, he looks like he’s in his element. Happy as a pig in shit, as Drago used to say about the Irishmen who’d stolen our heritage from us. The adage applies to the young Russian as he lays waste to the poor, outmatched Greeks.

I leave them behind and tear through the house, moving towards the sound of fighting rather than away from it. My instincts are screaming at me, but I ignore them.

Yes, I have to protect the child in my belly. But I also have a duty to make sure my child has a father. And if I can make the slightest bit of difference to this fight, then I’m going to try.

I’m not going to be a damsel in distress for a single second more.

As I rip around a dark grey wall, I run into yet another man. This one is tall and blonde and extremely familiar.

“Kian?” I gasp.

The man grabs me and holds me out at arm’s length. “Ah, so you’re the wildcat he walked into the lion’s den for?” he smirks.

The more I look at him, the less like Kian he seems. Their resemblance only goes surface-deep. Beyond the blonde hair and the blue eyes, they couldn’t be more different.

“You’re Cillian.”

“I see my reputation precedes me. The pleasure’s all mine, really.”

“Where’s Kian?” I ask.

“Not your concern at the moment,” he says. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I can help.”

“No, you can’t,” he says with finality.

Jesus. Why do I have to come into contact with every single alpha male on the planet? It hardly seems fair. A girl can only handle so much testosterone without going insane.

Cillian spins me around and starts marching me back the way I came. “There’s a fight in play and you’re only going to distract him.”

“Why aren’t you in there fighting with him?” I prod.

He chuckles. “I can see why he fell for you. Us O’Sullivan men have always liked our women feisty.”

“Please,” I say, trying the polite route. “I can’t just leave him here.”

“There is no way he’ll let me live if I willingly let you waltz right into—”

I realize something just then—Kian’s brother doesn’t consider me a threat at all. Which is the only reason I’m able to spin around and aim my gun at his face. It’s not even cocked, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“I’m not asking anymore,” I tell him icily.

He raises his eyebrows. They’re thicker and more unruly than Kian’s. His eyes are a lighter, clearer blue. He must have been drop-dead gorgeous in the prime of his youth. Even as an older man, he still has a youthful quality about him.

“You really wanna do this?” Cillian asks.

“He needs me.”

“Not now. Not like this. He needs me and the Clan and the Bratva. He has all that. If you go in there, it’ll only distract him, Renata.”

I’m mildly surprised that he knows my name. “I can make a difference—”

He shakes his head. “Let one of my men escort you off the compound. You’ll be safe.”

“I have been at the mercy of men all my life,” I snap. I’m close to sobbing, but I don’t care. “I have been pushed around and controlled. I’ve only ever been a pawn. And I’m done being that. Kian’s the one who told me that I could be a player if I wanted to be. Well, I’m choosing to enter the game.”

Cillian weighs his words heavily. “In this game, Renata, if you lose, you die.”

“I’m aware of the risks.”

“If you want to get through me, you’ll have to shoot.”

Our eyes lock. He’s deadly serious. But calm, too. As if he’s been preparing his whole life to take a bullet for his brother.

My finger is on the trigger. I don’t want to pull, but I’ve made my choice. I’m not leaving Kian to die. I’m going to do whatever I can.

You started this. Only you can end it.

Before I can decide what to do, an explosion goes off. So close that it hurls us both against the wall.

I see smoke.

I smell ash.

I taste blood.

And all I can think is…

Oh, God—my baby.

57

Kian

In hindsight, it might have been a better plan to wait for Cillian and Artem to rally the men. Our forces are spread over the entire compound, fighting back the Greeks and both Italian families in various locations. But most of Rokiades’s men are right here in this room, making sure to shield him from me.

“Rokiades!” I roar as I duck behind the massive dining room table that my men have managed to push onto its side. It provides the perfect cover for us, but it’s starting to give way beneath the onslaught of Greek gunfire.

In the room beyond us, all I can see is the line of Greek and Italian soldiers standing on the opposite end of the room, concealing their cowardly don.

We’re outnumbered four to one. Those odds are made worse by the fact that this ugly ass room has two little alcoves concealed off on each side of the space. We’ve been shooting at them for ten minutes now and I haven’t seen Rokiades once. He’s clearly hiding behind one of the two alcoves, watching everything unfold while his men die for him.

“Rokiades!” I yell again. “You fucking coward! Come out here and fight me like a man!”

I pop up from behind the table and fire off another round of bullets. I manage to hit two of his men. One is a clean kill shot; the second only incapacitates the poor bastard.

I duck down behind the table and attempt to reload before realizing that I’m clean out of ammo in this gun. “Fuck,” I growl, looking to the two men on either side of me. “Ammo?”

“Sorry, boss,” Rhys replies. “I’m on my last clip, too.”

“Get out there and get our men in here,” I order. “Another ten minutes and we’re going to sitting ducks.”