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The fight leaves my shoulders and I want to fall to the ground and cry. No, I want to hug him and cry.
I run to him, ignoring everyone and everything in my path.
“Kirill,” I call, but my voice is drowned out by the chaos.
He hears me, though, because his attention flies in my direction immediately. He sprints toward me, killing a man on the way. Blood splatters on his glasses and face, but he doesn’t even blink as he continues jogging until he nearly runs into me.
“You okay?” he breathes the words out as if they’re a prayer, and I want to close my eyes and listen to his voice all day.
I nod and lift a hand to touch his cheek, then I remember we’re not alone and let it fall to my side. “You’re alive.”
“No one will be able to kill me. Or you. Hear me? No fucking one.”
I swallow my tears.
I want to cry. I want to say how happy I am that he’s here, but if I say that right now, I can’t guarantee that I won’t break down in sobs.
So I remain silent and concentrate on the battle.
Soon after, the Albanians are wiped out in droves, mostly by our men and Damien, who went completely rogue.
I only managed to shoot two before I was out of ammunition, so Kirill shielded me from the bullets. He physically pushed me behind him as if he were the bodyguard and I was under his protection.
As I took cover, I could only watch his back as the muscles contracted with each shot he fired.
“Stay beside me,” he orders as he tells the others to clean up.
“That was over too soon,” Damien complains. “They couldn’t put up more of a fight or something?”
I try to help with the cleaning, but a glare from Kirill keeps me rooted in place. I look at Rai and she smiles.
I walk to her as her husband, Kyle, hugs her to his side. “Thank you.”
“Likewise, Aleksander.”
Warmth fills me at the way she respected my apparent gender. I was terrified she’d certainly use this information—that Kirill hired a female guard who’s pretending to be male—to threaten him with, but she proved me wrong.
In more ways than one.
Maybe Rai isn’t as bad as I initially thought.
“You can call me Sasha, Miss.” I offer her a bow of respect. When I lift my head, my eyes clash with Kirill’s icy ones. He’s wiping the blood off his glasses and glaring at us.
I jog to his side, or as much jogging as I can do under the circumstances. The last thing I want to do is spur some sort of war between Kirill and Rai because of me.
When I stop beside him, he gives Rai an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, then slips his glasses up his nose.
“You don’t have to do that—”
“Shut the fuck up and walk.” He nudges me in front of him not so gently and I stumble but then regain my composure.
What’s wrong with him now? I would almost swear he’s mad at me, but why would he be?
I didn’t do anything to warrant this…or did I?
15
SASHA
Kirill and Damien are called in by the Pakhan to report back on what happened with the Albanians.
I follow them to the car, limping slightly and without much energy. My arm wound isn’t bleeding anymore, so that’s a good sign. Before I can open the door, Kirill whirls around and fixates me with his signature stare. People downright tremble when he looks at them in this cryptic manner that can only translate to possible trouble.
“Where do you think you're going?”
His tone is so harsh that even the others, namely Yuri, Viktor, and Maksim, stop a safe distance away and stare at the scene.
I clear my throat despite the tinge of pain bursting through my chest. “With you. To the Pakhan’s house.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” He stares behind me. “Yuri, Maksim. Escort Lipovsky back to the house and make sure the doctor takes a look at him. If I find out my orders weren’t met, you’ll be the ones who face punishment.”
“Yes, sir,” both say at the same time.
I start to speak, but the words get stuck in my throat when he glares down at me. It’s not a good idea to provoke Kirill when he’s in this unpredictable state. It’s worse that I don’t know what made him this mad.
Is it because I got myself kidnapped? Or is it the fact that I couldn’t protect him?
His shoulders are tense, causing his jacket to strain against his strong muscles. His lips part as if he wants to say something, but they soon clamp shut again, and he slips into the car without a word.
Viktor moves to the front, and I intercept him. “Make sure he’s safe.”
The mountain of a man looks at me as if I were an alien. “I don’t need you to tell me the obvious.”
