Page 24

“You !” she hissed, her face contorting with recognition.

She clenched her fists and swung at Sacha, lightning-fast—but he caught her wrist before the punch landed.

“Once, not twice,malen’kayagadyuka, (little viper)” he growled, yanking her toward him and twisting her arm behind her back, pinning her against the wall.

“Sienna !” Selina cried from behind me, and only then did I realize I had instinctively placed myself in front of her in a protective stance.

“Sienna ? A pretty name for such a venomous snake,” Sacha sneered, tightening his grip as she thrashed.

“Let me go so I can show you how a snake really bites !” she spat, kicking at his shins.

Sacha let out a pained grunt, then wrapped a hand around her throat, pressing against her artery.

“Don’t hurt her ! Please, don’t hurt my sister !” Selina pleaded, clutching my arm.

I looked down at her tear-streaked face and clenched my fists, “don’t worry. He won’t hurt her—she’ll just pass out,” I reassured her.

Roman appeared in the doorway just as Sienna went limp in Sacha’s grip, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Grigori says there’s an issue with the shipments—” he began, then froze, taking in the scene. “What the hell is going on here ?”

“What’s happening ?” I asked, not moving from my place, still gripping Selina’s trembling hand.

“We need to get back. There’s a problem with the deliveries, and I spotted Vassili’s men lurking nearby,” Roman replied, shoving his phone into his pocket.

It wasn’t unusual for Vassili’s men to be in the area—his drugs reached even the darkest corners of the city. What was unusual was our presence. We needed to leave before we drew too much attention.

“Let’s go. Pack your things,” I told Selina, finally releasing her hand.

She hesitated, clutching her son protectively against her, but quickly obeyed when she saw Sacha heft her unconscious sister over his shoulder and head for the exit, muttering curses under his breath. Roman followed behind, snickering as he asked if this was the same woman who had punched Sacha that morning.

Selina gathered their few belongings into a small bag, her son trailing her like a lost duckling. Every time she winced from pain, likely from her injured fingers, I had to stop myself from stepping forward to help. Instead, I stood by the door, waiting patiently.

She finally joined me, her son still avoiding me. I grabbed the bag from her hand without a word and motioned for them to go ahead. We descended the stairs quickly, making our way back to the car where Sacha and Roman were already waiting.

I stepped into the living room, followed by my brothers—Sacha carrying the still-unconscious woman in his arms, and Roman attempting to engage Rafael in conversation while the boy clung to his mother.

Grigori was pacing behind Elif, who was seated on the couch, trying to calm him down. Her eyes widened when she saw us, and she immediately stood up.

I was the first to step through the archway into the room, and I was the first my brother saw by the bay windows.

“There you are,moybrat!Rasili called about—” But he stopped talking the moment the others followed me inside. Sacha placed Sienna on the couch under Elif’s stunned gaze, while Roman stood frozen behind Selina and her son.

“Blayd!Are you fucking kidding me, Nikolaï?!” Grigori roared, storming toward me, but Elif quickly stepped between us, pressing her hands against his chest to hold him back.

“Calm down,askim !” she said firmly.

“Calm down ?! Calm down ?! We’re about to start a new war with the Italians after everything we’ve been through, Elif!”

“What are you talking about ?” I asked, stepping forward.

“You’d know what I was talking about if you weren’t busy chasing after another man’s wife!” my brother snapped, his glare making me grit my teeth.

“Rasili called, saying his wife and son were kidnapped, and he asked if we knew anything ! The man is looking for his wife everywhere, like a rabid dog…”

“I am not his wife !”

The sudden outburst in that soft, trembling voice made all of us turn. Selina stood there, her expression just as shocked as ours, and her face quickly turned crimson. If she hadn’t been covered in bruises, with a busted lip and that unmistakable fear in her eyes, I might have found it beautiful.