Page 18 of Bratva King

Soot blackened one side of his face, and his shirt had blood across one sleeve. She noticed a gun was tucked in the waistband of his pants. He couldn't have weighed much more than she did, but somehow he lifted her anyway.

"I've got you,” he kept telling her.

He ran, and she clung around his neck. Behind them, the estate burned like a funeral pyre against the darkening sky. Gunfire echoed everywhere. She buried her face against his shoulder.

“Alexei, I'm scared,” she whispered. "They killed Papa.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

He kept running. His breathing grew heavier, and yet he never slowed. Eventually they reached a convoy of black vehicles hidden near the tree line. Volkov men rushed around them, and someone shouted orders.

Alexei lowered her into the back seat of one of the armored cars. She grabbed his wrist before he could step away.

“No, don’t leave me,” she said desperately.

His expression softened. "I have to. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

Tears spilled freely now. “Please, Alexei!”

He looked back toward the burning estate. People still screamed, and smoke climbed endlessly into the evening sky.

"I have to help,” he told her, and the determination in his eyes caught her briefly off guard.

"They'll kill you,” she said, thinking of her father’s body.

"They won't."

"They'll kill you!” Natalia repeated, not caring how crazy she sounded.

He knelt beside the open car door. His clear and steady eyes met hers. “Natalia, listen carefully. I’ll come back to you.”

"You promise?"

"I promise."

She held his hand tighter. "You swear?"

"I swear,” he said, letting her hand go gently. "Stay here, okay?”

"I don't want to be alone,” she said, subjecting him to her pleading puppy-dog eyes. It usually worked, but not this time.

"You won't be, because I’ll return to you,” he said, then smiled, just enough to reassure her.

Then he stood, turned, and ran back toward the inferno, to the burning home disappearing beneath collapsing flames. Her home. Natalia watched until he vanished. She waited, counting the seconds, minutes, and hours. She didn’t know how long she waited, but Alexei never returned.

Eventually another man opened the vehicle door, and it wasn’t one of Alexei’s men, or anyone she recognized. It was an older stranger with cold eyes the color of dirty eyes. She jerked away, and her back hit the seats. Natalia had nowhere to go.

He looked down at her, and he looked gigantic to her.

“So." His voice carried no warmth whatsoever. "You're the last Morozov."

Natalia shrank backward.

"Who are you? What do you want?” she whispered.

He smiled, and it wasn't a kind smile. "I've come to save you."

She believed him because, at thirteen, she didn't know monsters rarely announced themselves. The assassin lifted her from the vehicle.