Chapter 162 162

Chapter 162 162
“What?” Desya Bogdanov grins, wiping Brad’s blood off his fist like it’s nothing. “Were you expecting someone else, printsessa?”

My brain short-circuits. Desya—he’s supposed to be dead. I shot him. I saw him die.

But did you?

No. Actually, I didn’t. I saw the bullets enter his body, and then his body hit the water. That’s it—that’s what I saw.

But who on earth could survive that?

Before I can find an answer to that, however, someone else answers Desya’s question.

“Yes,” Yulian growls, drawing his gun. “She was expecting me.”

60

YULIAN

Of all the things Desya stole from me, I never thought he’d steal a punch.

But it was Brad Baldwin’s face, and I’d really been looking forward to punching it, so I can’t help a hint of resentment.

For that, and also for the fact he came back from the dead. Again.

I search for shock inside me, but find none. I guess part of me must have known all along. With ghosts like Desya Bogdanov, it ain’t over ‘til you see a body.

But right now, Desya isn’t my main concern.

“Mia.” I fight to keep the emotion out of my voice. Seeing her in Brad’s clutches nearly made me break my promise not to shoot the bastard dead. “Get away from there.”

“What, no thanks for me?” Desya scoffs. “I just saved your girl there, brother. A little gratitude would be nice.”

“Thanks.” I say it as dryly as I can. “Now, let her go.”

If he saved her, he sure as fuck didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart. I’ve seen how Desya operates: He plots, lies, and cheats his way into sick games of cat and mouse. Mia was a thousand times safer in Brad’s greasy paws than under Desya’s “protection”—whatever the hell that looks like.

Besides, she doesn’t need it. I’m here.

And I’ll protect her with my life if I have to.

“Why…?” Mia frowns, looking up at Desya in utter confusion. “Why did you help me?”

“Let’s see.” He pretends to be deep in thought. “One, I don’t like fuckboys. Two, I don’t like rich fuckboys. Three, I have other plans for you. So, if I were you, I’d save my gratitude.”

“You son of a bitch,” Brad splutters from the ground. “I hired you! You were supposed to work for—OW!”

“What part of ‘I don’t like fuckboys’ didn’t you get, fuckboy?” He lands a kick straight into Brad’s ribs, sending him sprawling again. “Yulian’s my prey. So is the rest of the Lozhkin family. That kid in there? It doesn’t die unless I say so.”

“Yeah?” Nikita sneers, drawing her gun right next to me. “And here I thought we were gonna have to suffer through a redemption arc.”

“I’d never be so boring, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” She cocks her gun. “You don’t get to call me that.”

“No?” Desya taunts. “Damn. I thought we had something brewing, you and I.”

“Enough,” I interrupt. “Step away from Mia, and you don’t have to die tonight.”

He clicks his tongue, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. That’s not the prize you think it is, brother. What’s a ghost like me got to live for, anyway?”

“Revenge.” The answer rolls easily off my tongue. “But you’re not gonna get it unless you let Mia go.”

“And how exactly are you gonna stop me?” He barks out a laugh and points his gun at Mia’s head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a hostage, Yul.”

“What a coincidence,” I drawl. “So do I.”

Then I press my gun to my own temple.

Desya’s face blanches instantly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Negotiating.”

Mia looks terrified. Like she can’t believe what she’s seeing, either.

But it’s not a trick. I would die for her in a heartbeat. From the second I met her, I would have died for her.

It just took me too fucking long to realize it.

“No.” Desya shakes his head, sounding crazed. “You don’t get to do that. You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” I hold his gaze without hesitation. “Then you don’t know the first thing about love.”

Mia’s eyes are damp. Her hands are both on her belly. She’s silently begging me not to do this—to think of our child.

But I am thinking of her. Our daughter. The little person we made together. Right now, there’s no way she can survive without her mother.

And neither can I.

“No,” Desya insists. “I won’t let you. I’ll shoot your fucking hand off.”

“Then Maks will take the shot.” Right on cue, a red laser dot appears on my forehead. “He isn’t going to miss.”

“He’d never. He’s⁠—”

“He’s my second,” I rumble. “He’ll do whatever needs doing. Because I ordered him to.”

Desya has never looked more like a cornered animal. Good, I think with dark satisfaction. See what it’s like on the other side for a change.

“So?” I ask, my finger hovering on the trigger. “What will it be?”

He grits his teeth. I can see he’s seething, cornered by his own dirty tactics. His single eye flits to Mia angrily, then back to me, like he’s trying to figure a way out of this. A way to get everything he wants and more.

But no one gets everything. Everyone has to make choices sooner or later.

Now, it’s his turn to choose.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he drops his gun. “Go,” he snaps at Mia. “Before I change my mind.”

She doesn’t make him say it twice.

She breaks into a run. Relief washes over me, though it’s brief. This isn’t the end of the fight—it’s the beginning.

But at least I’ve got her.

Within seconds, Mia is crashing into my chest. “You idiot,” she sobs. “You reckless, brave idiot.”

I wrap my arms around her without a second thought. “Right back at you.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” she demands, her face tear-streaked. “Why would you even do something like that?”

I cup her face. Even like this, with her soot-stained dress and salt marks on her cheeks, she’s as beautiful as the day I met her. “Why does anyone do anything?” I murmur.

Her eyes crinkle. She doesn’t need me to elaborate—we both know what I’ve just said. “You really are crazy,” she sniffles.

Yeah. Crazy about you.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Nik whispers, “but we’ve got company.”

I look up. Mia does, too. “What the…?” she blurts.

But I know what.

People in camouflage start flooding the underground parking lot. Dozens—no, hundreds.

Prizrak.

I push Mia behind me. “Stay back,” I hiss.

She obeys, but I can feel the fear radiating from her. Her fingers twist into the fabric of my jacket. Knowing her, she isn’t even afraid for herself. She’s afraid for me.

But I can’t have that. If I can’t even make my woman feel safe, then what good am I?

“Nik,” I command, “hide Mia. Take her to Maksim. Make sure she’s protected.”

“No!” Mia’s grip tightens. “I’m not leaving you! I⁠—”

“I’m not sending you away. I’m giving you a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes. The most important job in the world.” I stroke her face, just once. Just to memorize it. “Protect our baby girl. You’re the only one I trust to do that.”

Her eyes widen at that word: trust. “You trust me?” she asks, still crying.

And for once, the answer’s easy. For once, it’s the easiest thing in the universe. “I do,” I murmur against her lips. “More than anyone else in the world.”

I kiss her. It’s a quick, rushed thing, a stolen moment in the eye of the hurricane. Prizrak has us nearly surrounded, an army of ghosts and guns, and my men still haven’t arrived. When the storm kicks up, I want Mia as far away from it as possible.

Nikita grabs Mia’s hand and carries her away. Mia keeps looking back at me as she runs, not wanting to go, her heart warring with her sense of duty.

I cover their escape. Half a dozen Prizrak ghosts fall to my gun. They want to take my girl? I’ll take their fucking lives.