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“Katarina was friends with my mother,” he said. “I didn’t have a choice.”
I didn’t really care about his reasons. He’d been instrumental in the plot to kidnap my sister-in-law. A plot that nearly got my brother killed.
“You know what? I think that I am going to let you go.”
There was a look of relief in his eyes. “Well,” I pretended to contemplate my next move, “I’m not going to let you go. I’m just not going to kill you. I’ll let the new Pakhan take care of that.”
He shook his head, backing up slowly. “I’m not going back.”
I shrugged. I was getting bored with this situation. I had planned to get rid of the Russian, but now, I was uninterested. Alex’s voice was playing in my head, and I knew that he was right. I needed to keep myself out of trouble. I managed to keep myself out of jail, and my freedom wasn’t worth this.
I walked forward intent on taking the Russian down, but before I could make my move, he pulled out a gun firing off a wide shot.
“Shit.” The bullet grazed my upper arm before embedding itself in the dumpster behind me.
The Russian’s eyes widened as he realized he’d shot too wide. He raised the gun to fire again. This time at my head. Unfortunately for him, I was quicker and a better shot. I pulled the trigger without much thought.
“Omph,” the Russian released a small noise as the bullet embedded itself in his chest. He stumbled back a few feet before he hit another dumpster. When he did, he lost his footing, and his body collapsed in a heap.
I lowered the gun and immediately rushed forward to check his pulse. Given the way his eyes were frozen open, I knew that he was dead. I rolled my eyes and released a groan. My brother was going to have a shit fit when he found out.
Grabbing my phone, I started texting Alex. We needed to get this mess cleaned up before anyone found the body.
Before I could send the message, I heard a small sound behind one of the dumpsters. My head snapped towards the sound, my eyes narrowing as I peeked a heeled foot. I said nothing as I got up from the body and walked towards the person sitting behind the dumpster.
The person who signed their death warrant.
“I won’t hurt you,” I called out, trying to lure them into a false sense of security. I didn’t know how much they saw, and I didn’t care. I learned a long time ago never to leave witnesses.
Reaching out, I grabbed the edge of the dumpster, pulling it back as quickly as I could. When I did, I was surprised to see a young, dark haired woman crouched down. She was wearing a sequin bra and booty shorts. It was obvious that she was one of the dancers.
“What a pity,” I muttered to myself as I looked the woman up and down.
As I contemplated my next move, I heard the sound of glass tinkering and looked up just in time to see the woman swing a bottle at my head.
It connected, and that was the last thing that I remembered.
