Page 174 of Bleed with Me

“I have every fucking right!” Dorian hollered, walking past me as if I were a ghost. I tried to stop him, but he shook off my hand and stopped inches from my father. “You took my wife!”

“You keep saying that.” Dad’s confused gaze jumped between us. “But when? How?”

Swiftly, Dorian fished the paper I knew so well from the inner pocket of his leather jacket and slammed it against my father’s chest.

The marriage certificate.

“Read,” he snarled, peeking at me out of the corner of his eye. My heart missed a beat when my dad mumbled under his breath.

Dorian Zakhar Zhumagulov.

Nina Elisabetta Valentino

Witnesses:

Lucas Francesco Colapino

Zyon Zefarin Zhumagulov

Oh my fucking God!

He signed it!

His brother signed it!

I’m married!

“Are you serious?” Dad looked at Dorian as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Is it true?”

“Are you fucking blind?” Dorian rumbled, snatching the paper from him. He folded it neatly and put it back in his pocket. “Nina is my wife. Your poor services are no longer needed.”

Dad’s brows shot up, and he looked at me sadly.

“You have no idea what you’ve done, sweetie,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly.

“No, because you don’t share anything with me,” I retorted, standing between Dorian and him to block any sudden attack. Yet instead of talking to me, he turned to Zyon, who had acted invisible the whole time.

“You are at war. This,” his long index finger pointed at Dorian and me, “dragged you into a fight you really don’t need.”

“Well,” Zyon drawled, smirking arrogantly. “I like challenges.”

Dad pressed his lips into a thin line and dove his hands into his hair, crouching down. I glanced at him, sadness embracing my insides.

I wanted to help him. God knew I wanted to be part of whatever was happening, but he just didn’t let me.

“Let's go!” Zyon waved at his men, and they snatched my dad and dragged him to his feet. His wretched expression almost broke my heart.

“Zyon, please,” I whispered, trying to approach him, but Dorian’s arm blocked me.

“He’s alive,” he grumbled. “That should be enough.”

“It’s not!” I yelled, punching his shoulder hard. But he didn’t even flinch.

“You’re right.” He bit the corner of his lip, tilting his head. “It’s not enough.”

Before I, or anyone, could react, he lifted his gun and pulled the trigger. A gut-wrenching shriek flew from my throat as the bullet tore through my dad’s sweater. He screamed in pain and fright as it pierced his bicep and came out on the other side, hitting the wall.

Zyon sighed exasperatedly. The two men holding my father flinched in shock, and I ran toward my dad, shrieking like a banshee, but Dorian was completely unfazed. Gently, he pushed me to the side, and with his gun, he lifted my father’s head so their gazes locked. Dad gasped for air, his eyes glossy as he glanced into Dorian’s murderous face, fear and pain contorting his features.