Page 165 of Bratva Bidder

I blink through the haze and see Kirov standing over me, his face twisted into something feral and unforgiving.

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” he spits, drawing a long knife from his belt.

Before I can respond, he kicks me in the ribs, hard enough to send a white-hot spike of pain through my side. I curl instinctively, trying to protect my head, but he’s relentless. Another blow lands, then another, until I’m half-blind from pain and choking on dirt and blood.

“You made me look like a joke,” he growls. “In front of her. In front ofeveryone.”

He crouches down beside me, grabbing me by the collar and hauling me up just enough to plunge the blade into my side. The shock of it is worse than the pain at first, a cold burn that spreads through my entire torso. I gasp, trying to scream, but no sound comes out.

He leans in close, breath hot and reeking of sweat and blood. “This is for Nadya,” he hisses, and twists the knife cruelly before yanking it out.

I collapse again, one hand clutching the open wound, the other scrambling for something, anything, to fight back with. My vision is darkening at the edges, and the sounds of the fight around me are fading into a dull roar.

And then I hear Alexei’s voice.

“You’re making a mess of it, Kirov. Just end him already.”

Kirov lifts the blade again, ready to deliver the final blow. My arms feel like lead, my legs refuse to move, but just as he raises his arm high?—

The blade rises.

I can see my death in Kirov’s wild eyes, in the way his lips curl with triumph, like this is what he’s been waiting for all along. I try to lift my arms, try to move, but my body won’t respond. I’m drowning in pain, slipping.

Then—

A gunshot rips through the air.

She stands ten feet away, arm outstretched, grip steady despite the tremble in her frame. Her face is pale, almost ghostly in the moonlight, smeared with blood that’s not hers. The pistol in her hand wavers as Kirov’s body hits the ground.

“Nadya,” I croak, disbelief choking me.

She doesn’t move. She just stares at me like she’s seeing the worst thing imaginable. Kirov jerks forward, cursing under his breath, rising to his feet again even as blood spills from his shoulder.

“Get the fuck away from my husband,” Nadya snarls.

Kirov laughs. “You don’t have the guts.”

“Try me,” she says.

“Well then,” Kirov says, licking his lips. “Go ahead, shoot me.”

Nadya’s hand trembles.

From the distance, I hear a voice. “Mommy! Mommy, help me.”

“Nikolai,” I cough through my blood. I know Nadya heard him too.

“Nikolai, baby where are you?” she says.

Kirov laughs. “You can’t find him now. Try to shoot me and I’ll make sure his neck breaks off before you can fire the next shot. Save your husband.”

Nadya glances at me, making a split-second decision. Kirov runs into the line of trees, while Nadya beelines for me.

“No,” I cough as I try to sit up. “Don’t. Nadya, it’s a trap.”

But before she reaches me, another shot rings out. She stumbles to a stop, wide-eyed. It wasn’t aimed at her. It wasn’t us.

It’s Lev.