Page 3 of Bratva King

"There you are,” Alexei murmured.

He should've called his security team. Alexei knew that. One press of a button and half a dozen armed men would descend on the area. They'd bundle him into an armored SUV, sweep the surrounding buildings, and spend the next several hours lecturing him about unnecessary risks.

It was the sensible and most responsible option. The choice expected of the Pakhan of the Volkov family.

Alexei was painfully aware that his life no longer belonged entirely to him. Every movement was planned. In each of his public appearances, he was surrounded by men whose sole purpose was to keep him breathing.

His brothers and security team constantly worried. Even Dmitri occasionally reminded him that there wasn't a shortage of people who wanted him dead. It came with the title, and he accepted that most days, but sometimes, he was tired of being protected.

Alexei was sick of everyone rushing him toward the nearest exit while someone else dealt with the danger, and watching life through layers of bulletproof glass and armed escorts. He hadn't clawed his way to the top of the Bratva by hiding behind other men.

Besides, it had been far too long since anything had managed to quicken his pulse. The fundraiser had bored him senseless, but this was different.

Someone had taken a shot at him, then vanished into the night with enough skill to almost make him admire them. Curiosity flared brighter than caution.

He knew exactly how reckless it was, and he knew his brothers would call him an idiot if they found out. Alexei smiled anyway, then he gave chase.

The assassin moved like liquid. Whoever they were, they vaulted between rooftops with impossible precision, never hesitating, never looking back.

Alexei followed, although he didn’t do it as elegantly as she did. He’d glimpsed the assassin’s figure now and then, and finally concluded that it was a woman. That knowledge only sharpened his interest. He cleared the first gap, then another.

The city unfolded beneath them in sleeping silence while they raced across brick and steel under the moonlight. She was unexpectedly fast. Most hired killers relied on preparation and vetted escape routes beforehand. This one, however, seemed to rely on athleticism bordering on insanity.

She scaled a drainage pipe without slowing. Alexei took the stairs inside the adjacent building instead. It was less graceful, sure, but much faster. He burst through a rooftop access door just as she landed nearby.

She glanced over one shoulder. For the first time, he caught a proper look. The assassin wore black tactical clothing that highlighted her curves. Dark brown eyes peered back at him beneath a fitted mask. She widened her eyes slightly when she spotted him.

She hadn't expected him to keep pace, and that made him grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun. She sprinted again, and Alexei followed relentlessly.

Every shortcut she chose, he anticipated another. It felt like a game to him. Slowly but surely, he was blocking her potential escape routes. She crossed another rooftop and found nothing. They stumbled upon a construction project with steel beams and plastic barriers. It was a dead end.

She stopped and slowly turned. Alexei emerged from the access stairwell, his gun already raised, and his silencer aimed directly at her ribs.

"End of the road,” he said, breathing a little fast. Alexei couldn’t remember the last time he had such a workout.

She tilted her head and looked almost curious.

Then she disappeared. Well, not literally. She simply moved at a seemingly inhuman speed that, to Alexei, made her a blur. By the time Alexei adjusted his aim, she'd already closed the distance between them.

Metal flashed, and cold steel touched his throat. Alexei realized it was a knife, thin enough to shave with, and sharp enough that he felt the faint sting before he noticed the tiny bead of blood forming against his skin.

At the exact same moment, he pressed his pistol firmly against her side beneath the lowest rib. Neither of them moved. The rooftop became impossibly still. Wind tugged loose strands of dark hair from beneath her hood. Close enough now, he realized she was younger than he'd expected.

"You missed on purpose,” Alexei said.

"Obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Despite the impasse they found themselves in, Alexei was more amused than angry or afraid. He studied her, noting her steady breathing and relaxed shoulders. She wasn’t panicked one bit, and that impressed him.

"If I pull this trigger," he said quietly, "you die."

"If I move this knife half an inch," she replied, "so do you."

Very true. He'd met many killers before and found that most hid fear beneath arrogance, but this assassin hid amusement.

"I don't recognize you,” he told her, keeping his voice casual. “And I know most hired killers on the black market.”

She shrugged. “I keep a low profile.”