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Her husband is talking to his guards in clipped Russian, but I catch the brief moments he steals glances at her, as if making sure she’s safe and sound. Stella nods discreetly at him, and even though no words are spoken, it’s like a whole chain of communication has just happened between them.
It’s admirable to witness their connection firsthand. Dedushka always said Igor was the luckiest in his generation, but now I fully understand what that means. Dedushka, Sergei, and many others lost their wives, whether to illness or assassination, but Igor protected his with his life.
The sound of gunshots echoes above us, getting closer by the second, as if coming from inside the church.
“Stay here,” Kyle says. “Kirill and I will go see what’s going on.”
They’re not one step toward the door when they notice me joining them. Aleksander remains by his boss’s side, expression alert.
Kyle stops in his tracks and faces me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going too.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. The bastards don’t get to shoot at my family at my own wedding and expect me to stay in hiding.”
“I will take care of it,” he mutters.
“It’ll be easier if I’m around.”
“Fuck, Rai.” He grabs my shoulder and whispers against my ear, “You’re in your damn wedding dress.”
I lift it up and tie it so it’s no longer skimming the floor. “I can run in a dress.”
“Rai…” The warning in his tone doesn’t escape me, but I keep holding eye contact, refusing to budge.
“If you’re done flirting…” Kirill rolls his eyes from under his glasses.
I step out first, and Ruslan and Katia stand on either side of me.
“Stay and protect Granduncle,” I tell both of them, not waiting for their reply.
They don’t like being left out of the action, especially when I’m in the midst of it, but their role beside Sergei is more important.
I take the route back to where we came from. Kyle and Kirill follow after, covering for me and each other.
By the time we reach the church, it’s empty, except for the Italians who are protecting their injured man.
Adrian isn’t where we left him.
Excessive gunshots are coming from outside. Considering the randomness of the shots, I can’t exactly pinpoint their source.
“Let’s separate.” Kirill lifts his glasses up his nose. “I’ll take the back. Kyle, the front. Rai, stay here.”
He and Aleksander leave before either of us can agree.
“I’ll take the front,” I tell Kyle. “You stay here.”
“Funny.”
“I’m not joking. You have better aim than me and would be able to take down any target from the inside.”
“No.”
“Then I’m coming with you.” I don’t wait for him to agree because I know he won’t. Keeping my back to the wall and away from the windows, I creep to the entrance.
Kyle, though? He breezes through the door in the midst of the raining bullets.
I have no clue if he’s that brave or has no value for his life—or both. My heart nearly jumps out as the gunshots continue and he throws himself right in the middle.
He finds some of Igor’s men, motions something at them, and jumps over the fence toward the parking lot. Where the hell is he going?
I shake my head as I click the bullets into the chamber of my gun and slowly slip out. A few stray gunshots echo around me, and I fire two of my own. Four to go.
Kyle is the one who taught me to count my bullets, especially when I have no ammunition left. He said there’s nothing more stupid than dying by your own mistake. It’s ironic how his words stayed with me, particularily during dire situations.
I sneak behind our men toward where Kyle headed, making sure Vlad doesn’t see me. If he does, he’ll forcefully grab me and send me back beside Sergei.
The gunshots continue going at a sporadic speed. I hide behind the walls, holding my breath every time I move from one surface to the next.
Cars, mostly German, fill the parking lot, but there’s no sign of Kyle. I use the vehicles as camouflage while I try to track down where he went.
He always does this thing where he fucking disappears into thin air until it’s almost impossible to find him. And then, when someone does find him, he’s already finished several people and comes back all covered in blood as if it’s a normal occurrence.
We might all be killers, but the difference between Kyle and me is that I only kill when I absolutely have to, mostly in self-defense or to protect my family. He’s the type of unfeeling psycho who does it as a pastime. Not only that, he also doesn’t take backup. A lone wolf through and through.
I lift my head over a BMW to study my surroundings, but I come face to face with the opening of a gun.
