Page 114 of The Bratva King

One of my security guys appears beside me. “Sir, we need to get you looked at.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

I look at my arm. He’s right. Blood is running down to my wrist. I still don’t feel it.

“Home,” I say. “I need to go home.”

The guard looks like he wants to argue. I’m escorted back into the SUV.

The rage that’s been simmering all day, building since the casino fire, finally detonates into something white-hot and consuming.

The Italians did this. They crossed a line they can’t uncross.

They killed one of my men. They hurt Pasha.

This isn’t a turf war anymore. This is war.

I walk through the front door and hear SpongeBob echoing down the hall. I never imagined I’d feel relief at the annoying laugh.

“Nikolai?” Kylie appears in the hallway. She takes one look at me, and her face goes pale. “Oh, my God.”

I glance down at myself. I’m covered in blood. Some of it is mine, but most is Pasha’s. I look like I crawled out of hell.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Olga just dropped off Mila. She said she had to get to the hospital.”

“Where’s Luke?”

“Cinema room. I just set him and Mila up in there. What happened?”

“Car bomb.”

Her hand flies to her mouth.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Yes. My driver is dead. Pasha.” I say the words, but they don’t feel real. I’ve lost men before.

Her eyes widen. “Pasha?”

“Alive.”

I see the relief. “I’m so sorry.”

I nod curtly. I don’t want sympathy. I want to shower. I want to change. I want to hold a gun in my hand and put a bullet in the skull of whoever did this.

But first, I need to see Luke.

I walk toward the cinema room. Kylie follows a few steps behind, probably worried I’m going to collapse. I won’t. I’ve been through worse.

“Nikolai, wait.”

The door is open. Luke is on the couch with his blanket and a dinosaur. SpongeBob is on the screen. Mila is sipping a drink. They both look up when I walk in.

Luke’s eyes go wide.