Page 22 of Mountain Daddy (Broken Boss Daddies #1)

NIKOLAI

I was still scrubbing blood from my shirt when the call connected.

A scream.

Her scream.

I’m already in the car. Driving towards the bakery. Listening to every assault she suffers. Preparing to make round two of kills for the day.

“NIKOLAI! THEY’RE GOING TO ROSA’S. THEY KNOW ABOUT CHLEO. THEY’RE GOING TO TAKE HI?—”

The line goes dead.

“LILLY? ARE YOU THERE? LILLY?”

Silence.

No. No, no, no?—

Her words sear into my brain like a branding iron.

They’re going after Chleo.

My son.

My blood.

And I’m not there to stop them.

I screech to a halt. Two targets. Two directions.

Lilly—taken.

Chleo—still safe, but not for long.

An impossible choice no father should have to make.

I slam my fist into the steering wheel. I close my eyes. Force my breathing to slow. Panic helps no one. Fear helps no one.

Who do I save first?

Breathe. Think. Choose.

They won't kill Lilly immediately. I heard them say the boss wants her alive. She’s leverage.

But Chleo...

Five years old. Innocent. He’ll be terrified.

And they're heading for him now.

There's only one choice. I turn around, head in the other direction.

I take corners at speeds that should flip the car. The engine screams in protest. I push harder. Faster. The road blurs beneath me.

It’s not hard finding Rosa’s. Small Town. Heard her mention it once.

It’s a small cottage. Blue shutters. Pretty fairy lights strung across trees.

And a black SUV parked outside.

Too late. They're already here.

I kill the lights. Coast the final hundred yards. Stop behind a row of trees out back of the house, where I know they can’t see me.

Grab my gun. Check it’s loaded.

And then, I move silent and fast.

The back door has already been kicked open. I raise my gun. Press my back against the wall. Listen.

There’s no sound.

I peer through the cracked door. Living room's destroyed.

Rosa lies crumpled near the sofa. Blood matting her curly hair.

Fuck. She’s unconscious.

Where the hell is Chleo?

I move through the house, not caring if there are more men in there. I need to find my son.

I walk past Rosa. Check out the window.

There. One of the men. He has Chleo’s hand in his. He’s dragging the boy to the car.

And my son? He’s fighting every step of the way. Crying. Trying to pull away.

I’m instantly out through the front door.

The man turns, senses me a second too late.

He doesn't hesitate. Shoves Chleo behind him. Draws his gun.

I'm faster.

My bullet catches him in the shoulder. Spins him. His shot goes wild, punches through some tree.

Chleo screams.

“Go inside,” I tell the kid. “Go sit with Rosa.”

Chleo pales, his lips trembling. But he listens. He runs in without looking back. Seeing Rosa like that is bound to scare him.

Seeing what I’ll do next? That’ll scare him more.

So I chose the lesser of two evils.

I'm on the man before he can recover. My weight drives him against the garden wall. His head cracks against the plaster.

He's strong. Trained. A professional. His elbow catches me in the ribs. Makes me grunt.

But I'm stronger. Angrier. Fighting for something more than money or revenge for once.

Fighting for my kid. For Lilly.

I smash my forehead into his nose. Feel cartilage give way. His blood sprays warm across my face.

He stumbles. I drive my knee into his stomach. He doubles over.

I grab his head. Twist.

The crack is loud. Final.

His body drops like a stone.

I search him quickly and grab what I can.

Phone.

Wallet.

Gun.

And there, peeking from beneath his collar. The tattoo. Raven over a burning building.

The Kozlov mark.

The man's eyes go dull.

Body slumps.

Dead.

Fuck. The Kozlovs have Lilly.

I put his things in my pocket. If I have to track her, I’ll need information. Information he’ll have on that phone of his.

I go inside. See Chleo sitting by her side, wide-eyed.

“I’ve got her, Chleo,” I tell him. “You okay?”

He nods, but I can see he’s trying to hold back tears. I’ll talk to him. But first, I check on Rosa.

Pulse steady.

Head wound.

Breathing.

She'll live.

Chleo stands beside me, watching me with quiet, intense eyes. The kid’s worried. I don’t blame him.

“Rosa.” I shake her gently. “Rosa, wake up.”

Her eyelids flutter. “What...?” She focuses on me, confusion giving way to recognition. “Nikolai? What happened?”

She tries to rise. I press Rosa back down. “Lie here. Don't move. You’re hurt.”

Then, I hear it. A small sob.

Chleo stands pressed against the couch. Eyes wide with terror. Tears streaking his cheeks. He's wearing dinosaur pajamas. He's the most precious thing I've ever seen.

“Chleo.” I kneel down, trying to make myself smaller. Less threatening. “Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head. His eyes dart to Rosa, then back to me.

“The bad man was going to take me away,” he whispers. “He said my mom sent him, but I knew he was lying.”

Smart kid. My kid.

“You're safe now,” I tell him. “I won't let anyone hurt you.”

His small body trembles. I stay where I am, not wanting to frighten him more.

But then he moves. A single step forward. Another. Until he's close enough to touch.

“You're the man from the bakery,” he says softly, his brain in shock. “The one who fixed our chair and helped with pictures.”

“That's right.”

“You’re mama’s friend?”

I nod.

Then he reaches out. His small hand touches my cheek. Warm. Soft. Trusting.

The gesture breaks something inside me. Something I didn't know could break.

“Where’s my mom?”

“We’re going to get her now,” I say, not wanting to lie.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

That's when he steps forward again. And suddenly his arms are around my neck. His face buried against my shoulder. His small body shaking with sobs.

I freeze. My arms hovering awkwardly. Unused to this. Unused to comfort.

Then, slowly, I let them close around him. Hold him against me. Feel his heartbeat fluttering like a trapped bird.

“I'm scared,” he whispers.

“I know.” I tighten my hold. Just enough to make him feel secure. “But I'm going to take care of you. Both of you.”

He pulls back slightly. Looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks.

There it is. Unmistakable.

My eyes staring back at me.

Not just the color—but the shape. The intensity. The way they cut through bullshit and straight to truth.

My son.

The realization hits again, but different this time. Not a math problem of timelines and possibilities.

Visceral. Bone-deep. Cellular recognition.

This is my flesh.

My blood.

Mine.

I brush a tear from his cheek with my thumb. “You're mine,” I whisper.

He doesn't understand what I mean. But he leans into my touch anyway. Trusting me without knowing why.

That's when I hear it. The wail of sirens in the distance. Growing louder.

Someone called the police. A neighbor, probably. Heard the gunshots.

I need to move. Need to get Chleo somewhere safe. Need to find Lilly.

I turn to Chleo. “We need to go, okay?”

He nods. Doesn’t fight me.

I stand, take his hand. Look back at Rosa, who is whimpering on the floor. “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “Help’s coming. The cops are on their way.”

She nods. Too exhausted and in pain to ask any questions.

I tuck Chleo closer.

And promise myself whoever took Lilly… bleeds next.