Page 134 of Bratva Menace

By the time we’d cleared the house, our numbers had increased to twelve. Fifteen including Father, Autumn, and me. We’d lost a few along the way, which was unfortunate but unavoidable

“Now what?” I asked, slightly out of breath. We stood in the foyer of the mansion, gathered together, all looking to my father for the next step.

He didn’t crumble under the pressure before him. “Now we clear the grounds. Look outside.”

I did as he asked, peeking out through one of the windows next to the front door. It was chaos out there. People were running everywhere, in every direction, not sure who was friend or foe. Total fucking carnage.

“We’re not safe until we eliminate every single person with those fucking pendants.” Father turned to the soldiers behind him. “Kill anyone you deem as a threat. No one lives.”

“Yes, sir!” they all yelled.

Something caught my eyes in the distance. What the fuck is that? “Father?”

He must have sensed something in my voice because he came right to me, looking over my shoulder. “Fuck.”

Half a dozen cars came speeding down the road. They rammed straight into the gates, not even slowing down, completely bowling them over. People got out and immediately started attacking.

“Those aren’t Sergei’s men,” Autumn said, her face a mask of worry.

“How do you know that?” I asked, checking the magazine of my machine gun. I didn’t have many bullets left.

She pointed to a man slicing through people like fucking butter. “That’s Morris Tyrell. He’s an assassin. So is she,” she said, pointing again. “Maggie Jones.”

“What?” Pieces clicked into place, and dread filled me. “Vernon said ‘everyone’ would be coming. He didn’t just mean Sergei’s soldiers.” I looked closer at the new arrivals. I pointed a finger. “They’ve got those fucking pendants.”

Father cursed.

“Sergei must have paid them to come if things went bad.” Autumn’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “They’ll be under contract. Obligated to follow it through regardless if Sergei is alive or not.”

“We’re fucked!” one of the soldiers behind us yelled. “We should just run! We’re going to die! We’re all going to die⁠—”

Another soldier slapped him across the face. “Pull yourself together!”

“No one is running,” Father growled. “You shoulder your fucking weapon and fight, or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Fuck,” I breathed out. “There’s more.” Another three cars came racing toward the house.

The look on my father’s face mirrored my own thoughts. He knew we most likely weren’t going to get out of there alive. There were just too many of them. Too many to try to take down on our own.

I stood taller, refusing to let even a sliver of fear take root inside me. If I was going to die, I was going to take as many of those fuckers down with me as I could.

Father nodded, face solemn. He gripped the side of my face and brought his forehead to rest against mine. “You’re not too much,” he whispered. “You’re perfect, just the way you are. Remember that.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. His words meant more to me than he would ever know.

He pulled back to look at Autumn and smiled. “Love you, Devil Woman.”

She smiled back. “Love you back, Your Royal Grouchiness.”

Father allowed himself one more moment of weakness, his eyes filling with so much emotion it seemed to almost cripple him before he shut it down, a dark, evil beast rising in his place.

He raised his gun into the air and roared, “Kill them all!”

“KILL THEM ALL!” we roared back and ran out of the house.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

LUKYAN VOLKOV