AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The pain in his voice ripped right through me, making my hand move from my stomach up to my heart, that felt like it was being torn in two. “Ivan…” I wanted to tell him I loved him. I just needed—
A shot rang out from the front of the range, where we’d left Pavel sitting with his feet on the counter and a beer at his elbow. We both jumped and Ivan instinctively moved in front of me. It seemed unlikely to me that Pavel was shooting randomly and Ivan’s face told me he didn’t think so either. He grabbed me and hurriedly shoved me into a supply closet at the opposite end of the range, hissing for me to stay put before pressing my new gun into my hand. He shut the door, leaving me in darkness once again, and a much more cramped space.
Filled with confusion that threatened to turn to terror as I sat there clutching my gun, I decided to sneak out and see what was going on. I crept up to the door to the office and peeked around the slightly open edge. Sucking in a gasp, I ducked back out of sight, trying to process what I saw.
Poor Pavel was dead, the single shot had been for him, but it seemed like Ivan was the main target. A haggard, red-faced man had been holding his gun on Ivan. I crouched down below the man’s eye level and looked again. Ivan’s gun was on the ground and he stood tall and straight, staring down the man who’d gotten the drop on him.
“Why did you have to kill him?” the man raged, moving a step closer and shaking the gun at Ivan.
Ivan didn’t move a muscle, answering calmly. “He took my wife. He broke our truce.”
“Damn your truce. The fool only wanted a bit of revenge. He wouldn’t have hurt her.”
This had to be Anton’s father, the head of Morozov’s rival crime family. I begged to differ that his son wasn’t going to hurt me. He’d taken me to a murder room right before Ivan showed up. Still, as he continued to rage at Ivan, I had to feel a little bit sorry for him. Not Anton, the old man who had the misfortune to raise him. I pressed my stomach with my free hand, then looked at the gun that I still held in the other.
This could be my chance to get away. I could sneak out and take Ivan’s car, drive to the Keys and hop on a plane somewhere, anywhere but here. This was the shot at freedom I should have taken weeks ago, when Maksim was still alive, before my presence in Ivan’s life kicked off this war.
I started to turn so I could crawl toward the back door, but then I saw the man’s finger twitching on the trigger as he waved his gun at Ivan’s face. My husband, the father of my baby, our heir. The man I loved. I knew I wouldn't leave him. Not couldn’t, but wouldn’t. As much as I belonged to him, he also belonged to me. Maybe I was bloodthirsty, who knew. But I wasn’t going to leave Ivan and I wasn’t going to lose him, either.
I stood up, raising my gun as I threw open the door. The man barely had a chance to glance my way when I aimed squarely at what I wanted to hit, and squeezed the trigger. The first bullet hit him in the chest and he fell backwards. I stepped forward, lowering my hand and shooting again to finish him off. I was Ivan’s queen, after all, and wanted to be fit to reign by his side. I kept squeezing the trigger until Ivan slipped around behind me and grabbed my arm, gently lowering it to my side.
“It’s empty, Reina,” he said.
I loosened my grip and he took the gun, setting it on the floor at our feet. I stared down at the bullet-riddled body of the man who tried to steal my love away from me and turned to Ivan.
“We shouldn’t have been here alone,” I said harshly. “Pavel was useless. You should have had backup.”
We couldn’t even go to the beach without a team of men following him and he took us out to the middle of nowhere alone? I was furious at him, and wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and kiss him senseless.
He took me into his arms and held me close, a harsh laugh rising from his chest. “I had all the backup I needed, my queen.”
Chapter 20 - Ivan
We managed to go two weeks without any new attacks and things seemed mostly calm. With the Balakin head and his son both out of the picture, his minions scattered and peace settled over Miami, at least for the moment. I was still staying close to home as much as I could, not wanting to be away from Reina for too long. When she wasn’t with me, Dmitri followed her around at a distance, and her maid Hetty had finally returned to keep her company. I couldn’t say things were perfect, or that Reina was completely happy, and it tormented me in quiet moments like now, when I had a lull in my work.
My phone dinged and I checked the messages, thrilled that I finally had some news that was sure to bring a smile to her face. I quickly called my contact.
“When?” I asked.
“Now,” he answered. “I can start the video at any time.”
“Do that. Send me the info so I can log in.”
I ended the call and hurried to find Reina. She had taken to spending time in the kitchen, deciding she wanted to learn how to cook. She was there with our chef, rolling out pastry dough, and even though I knew she’d want to see what I was about to show her, I had to stop for a moment to take her in.
Her hands were covered in flour and her dark blonde hair was piled on top of her head and secured with a bright red bow, my favorite color on her. Her dark blue smock flowed over the swelling bump of our baby and she bit her lush lower lip as she looked down to read the recipe in front of her.
I loved her so much it took my breath away every time I caught her unaware like this. Even though she hadn’t told me, I was sure she loved me, too. After all, she killed to save my life and she hadn’t tried to leave me despite giving her almost as much freedom as she could want. Yes, she had to have guards, but she understood why now. I tapped at my phone to ready what I wanted to show her and when I looked up, she was smiling at me and wiping her hands on a dish towel.
I motioned for her to join me on the terrace and I led her to a shady spot. “Let’s sit,” I said. “I want you to see something.”
We sat close together on a bench under a magnolia tree, the sound of one of the garden fountains gurgling behind a leafy hibiscus bush. I handed her my phone with the live stream already playing. Peering over her shoulder, the video showed a man half slumped in a chair, his face a mass of bruises. The man in charge of the questioning hauled back and knocked him almost playfully alongside his head.
Reina handed the phone back to me, a slight frown marring her brow. “This stuff doesn’t freak me out anymore, and I’m really glad you’re sharing your work with me these days, but you don’t need to show me every single interrogation.”
“Keep watching,” I told her. “You’ll want to see this one.”
She took the phone and dutifully continued scrutinizing the scene. My man walked into the frame and leaned over the man in the chair. “State your crime,” he said and moved back. “Tell our viewer why you’re here.”
