Page 87 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

“Is that right?” He rises slowly, straightening himself to his full height which, although intimidating, is nowhere near as tall as Finn. “Had a better life. Past tense. Your sister is probably turning blue in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean right about now. What’s left of her, that is. I hear the fish are particularly carnivorous this time of year.”

My hand trembles. I can’t let him win. I’m doing this for Ivana, and for my unborn child, I remind myself. If I let him live, there will always be other children for him to traffic, other vulnerable young women who find themselves trapped through no fault of their own.

I smile. “Were you always a coward who picked on people weaker than you, or is it something you learned from your father?”

The smile fades. “Your words can’t hurt me. I should’ve killed you both when I had the chance, but the money was a great incentive to keep you alive. That, and the thought of you both being broken in like horses. Come to think of it, I’ve never tried twins. Maybe I should’ve kept her alive. I’d have taken great pleasure from⁠—”

A gunshot rings out from the other side of the door, and I see the flicker of acknowledgement in his eyes. This is it. This is the moment that he and his men have been waiting for, the reason for all the ghostly theatrics: they were waiting for us.

I fire a bullet into his chest before he can react. Blood spurts from the raggedy hole in his shirt, and he fires his gun straight back at me in response. His bullet lodges in my upper arm as I lunge sideways and I swallow the flare of orange pain to fire a second bullet into his left side. A third hits his thigh as I land on my shoulder.

But he’s still on his feet.

Still staring at me the way he did when I was eight years old, like I was only put on this planet to put money into his bank account.

He hovers over me, swaying, his gun hand trembling so badly he raises his other hand to hold it still. Then I notice the bloody saliva collecting in the corner of his mouth, and it gives me the final boost of energy that I need to finish him.

The gunfire outside the room is getting louder and closer.

It’s time to end this.

I stand up slowly, our eyes locked, ignoring his disturbing blood-speckled smile.

“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” He has switched to Russian. “But you’re the one who will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”

I smile and respond in Russian. “And do you know what I will see? I will see people who love me.”

His smile fades slowly. A cough erupts like a biscuit crumb coming back up. His shoulders jerk, and in the half-second that he is distracted by the bloody phlegm coming from his mouth, I find my knife and plunge it into his chest.

His finger closes around the trigger of his gun as he goes down, but the bullet hits the ceiling, way off target. His body twitches on the floor, but his glazed eyes remain focused on me.

“That was for my sister.” I swallow the boulder in my throat when I think about Ivana. “Seventeen years ago, when you punched a little girl in the head and made her deaf in one ear, I promised I would never let anything bad happen to her again. Because of you, I broke that promise, but now I’m putting it right.”

He raises a shaky hand and points his gun at me.

And I turn around and walk away.

Finn’s eyes search me when I open the door and step outside. He waited. Aiden isn’t there, and I hear the gunfire coming from above our heads, but Finn is right here where he said he would be.

He spots the blood on my arm and swoops in, holding my elbows to keep me steady while he inspects the damage. “He shot you.”

“It’s nothing.”

I hear the growl inside his chest over the battle raging on deck. “Is it over?”

I nod and rest my head on his chest, finally succumbing to his love for a few brief moments. His arms wrap around me protectively, but it’s his heartbeat that keeps me grounded.

I pull away and peer into his eyes. “I need to find Ivana.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

He takes my hand and, together, we make our way back on deck, stepping over bodies, and scanning faces for the people we care about.

A small army led by Leonid has converged on the ship, and by the time Finn and I reach the deck, they have wiped out the Petrov crew and sustained only a few minor casualties. We find Connor and Aiden near the container, the reason why the Bratva docked at night to avoid unwanted interference. Their biggest mistake was buying the port authority’s silence and trusting them not to be bought by another Bratva family who offered them more.

“You don’t have to do this.” Finn slides his arm around my shoulders and murmurs in my ear. “We can let them handle it.”

“No.” My voice is steady. “I want to do this.”