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“If she dies, Isaac is going to have our ass,” Marco said.
We both popped over the table, guns drawn, ready to kill anyone who kept us from getting Sasha out of the hotel.
But there was no one.
People were huddled around the room crying, hugging, and praying. Glass was all over the floor and furniture was overturned. There were also streaks of blood across the floor, and I knew that Sasha wasn’t the only injury.
“Cops are going to be here soon,” Marco said. He was leading me towards the front of the hotel. “I’m going to have to get rid of my weapons.”
I nodded. My focus was on Sasha. I was silently praying that she would make it not just because my brother was right about her father’s reaction if she died, but also because Sasha didn’t deserve to die on a ballroom floor.
I might not love my wife, but I had empathy for the situation she had been put in.
“I need help!” I screamed as we made it out to the lobby. Marco was right. The place was swarming with cops, EMTS, and frightened guests. “I need help!” I yelled out again.
Police swarmed us. Putting guns in our faces as they tried to access if we were friend or foe. I didn’t flinch. This was hardly the first time I’d had an AK in my face. That and the fact that I could feel Sasha’s breathing starting to falter made it so that I didn’t even flinch.
“My wife has been shot,” I yelled. “She needs help. She’s been shot.”
It only took a moment for the police to access the situation, and immediately an EMT was at our side. “What happened?” he asked.
I blinked slightly wondering if this guy was fucking serious. “She was shot. There was a shooting at the wedding.”
He placed a finger on her neck checking for a pulse, and I knew from the way he frantically gestured to his partner that things weren’t good.
“I’m going to need you to gently place your wife on this stretcher,” the EMT said. He was talking to me as if I were a minute away from having a meltdown. The sad thing is that I felt collected. My wife was likely going to die, which would start a war with her family, and I was barely fazed. I’d already buried most of my family.
“Sir?” the man’s partner called out. He stretched out, and he was trying to get Sasha out of my arms.
There was an urgency in his mannerisms, and I immediately moved Sasha to the stretcher, despite the fact that I wanted to hold her in my arms. I felt an odd sense of loss watching her thin body on the white stretcher. She was pale as the sheets and covered in blood.
The EMTs swarmed around her blocking her from my view.
I didn’t follow as they rushed her to the ambulance.
“You can go if you want,” Marco said. He placed a hand on my shoulder. The weight of it felt heavier than normal.
“I’ll follow,” I said before turning to my brother. He looked incredibly put together considering the circumstances. “We need to figure out what the hell happened. Most of the family is here, and there’s enough security that no one should have been able to breach.”
“Sasha said something before the bullets started flying,” Marco said.
My eyes narrowed in on my brother. “Are you accusing her of having something to do with this?” There was anger in my voice. I was covered in Sasha’s blood, and while I might not love my wife, I don’t think I could forget the way that her warm blood poured out of her as her body went cold.
“I’m not saying that she specifically had anything to do with it,” Marco said. I could tell that he was backtracking.
I raised a brow. “She’s got a bullet in her gut,” I told him. “I don’t even know if she’s still alive, and while I don’t like Isaac, I don’t think that he would put his own daughter in danger.”
I didn’t think that the Petrov’s had anything to do with this. Isaac would never put a hit out on his own daughter even if it meant getting a shot in at me.
Marco looked as though he didn’t believe me, but he was smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself.
“This was an inside job,” I told him. “There’s no one other explanation.” I took off my suit jacket and looked around. EMTs and cops were all over the place. Sasha hadn’t been the only one hurt, and I knew that there were men who were probably dead. I just wasn’t sure why one of my own men would shoot up a wedding.
“Get Lorenzo,” I said.
“He’s probably with Francesca,” Marco said. “I’ll have him meet you at the house…”
Marco trailed off slightly when he got a look at my face.
