Page 80 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

KOVAN

Of course it’s a fucking trap.

I knew it the second I saw that woman stumbling into our headlights. No crashed car. No explanation for how she got here. Just a bleeding woman with a bundle, appearing on the most deserted stretch of road between the restaurant and home.

But did Vesper listen when I told her to stay in the car?

Hell no.

Now, she’s standing ten feet away from me, frozen in terror, with a gun in her face.

“Take another step and I’ll put a bullet in her brain,” the woman snarls to me, dropping the fake baby and kicking it aside.

The doll rolls across the street and comes to stop at my feet, its plastic eyes staring up at nothing. Blank. Lifeless.

“It’s a doll,” Vesper whispers, her voice hollow with shock. “The baby… It’s just a doll.”

The woman with the gun is young. Maybe twenty-five. Wide-set dark eyes, a birthmark under her left eye, scar running along her throat. I don’t recognize her, which means she’s not Bratva. Hired mercenary, probably. The sort of disposable tool Ihor uses when he wants plausible deniability.

Her gun hand is already starting to shake. Amateur hour.

I take a deliberate step forward, testing her resolve.

“I will fucking shoot her!” she screams, jamming the barrel against Vesper’s temple. “Don’t you dare move!”

Her eyes check left, then right. She’s waiting for backup that should have been here already.

Good. That gives me an opening.

“Go ahead,” I suggest, my voice flat. “Pull the trigger.”

The woman’s face goes white. “You… you don’t mean that. They told me you’d do anything to keep her safe.”

Sweat beads on her forehead despite the cool night air. Her arm wavers just enough to tell me she’s never killed anyone before. Probably never even fired a gun outside a shooting range.

“They lied,” I tell her.

Her mouth falls open. The gun drops a fraction of an inch as doubt creeps across her features.

It’s all the opening I need.

I drop to one knee, pull out my gun, and fire.

My bullet catches her in the shoulder, spinning her away from Vesper. In the same motion, I launch myself forward, tackling Vesper to the ground as another shot rings out from somewhere behind us.

“Stay down!” I bark, covering her body with mine as I drag us both toward the SUV.

“You shot her,” Vesper pants, her voice shaking. “Oh, God, you actually shot her.”

“She was going to shoot you if I didn’t.”

Twin headlights sweep across the street as two black SUVs roar up behind the wounded woman, who’s writhing on the sidewalk and screaming obscenities.

“Get in the car,” I order. “Now!”

Vesper scrambles into the passenger seat, but before I can follow, a third vehicle blocks our rear exit. We’re boxed in. Perfect.

“Fuck,” I mutter, reaching into the console for my backup weapon.

Vesper’s eyes go wide when she sees the second gun. “Kovan, what are you going to do?”

“Keep you alive.” I duck behind the steering wheel and roll down my window. “Get in the back seat. Down in the wheel well. Stay low.”

“There are so many of them?—”

“Which is exactly why you need to get the fuck down!”

Men pile out of the SUVs, at least eight of them, all armed. I start firing, aiming for center mass while trying to keep track of Vesper’s location. She’s supposed to be in the back seat, but I can see her blonde hair in my peripheral vision.

She’s not listening. Again.

Bullets pepper the side of our vehicle. The SUV is armored, but it won’t hold up forever under this kind of assault.

Sure enough, a round punches through the windshield, spider-webbing the glass. Vesper screams.

“I told you to get in the back!” I shout, yanking her down as I punch the gas and swerve hard to the right, trying to get a better angle on the shooters behind us.

She finally scrambles into the back seat, but she’s not staying low enough. I can hear her panicked breathing over the gunfire.

“What do we do?” she cries. “What do we do?”

“I can’t get a clean shot from here.” I eject the empty magazine and insert a fresh one. “But I’m not leaving you. We hold position until backup arrives.”

Another bullet whistles past my ear and takes out the rear window. Glass rains down on Vesper like razor-edged confetti.

The shooting is too intense. My clip runs dry again, and I’m reaching for my last magazine when I hear the most beautiful sound in the world: screeching tires and Pavel’s distinctive engine roar.

I throw myself into the back seat, covering Vesper’s body with mine as more gunfire erupts. This time, it’s not all aimed at us.

I stay on top of her until the shooting stops and silence reclaims the night.

“Kovan! Vesper!”

Pavel’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. The passenger door is wrenched open, and cool air rushes in.

“We’re okay,” I manage, rolling off Vesper and pulling her onto my lap. Glass crunches under my weight. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

She’s shaking so hard I can feel it through my chest. “Jesus. Fuck. Oh, God, Kovan, I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you.”

Blood trickles from cuts on her arms. Her lip is split, probably from when I tackled her. A bruise is already forming along her cheekbone.

“Vesper—”

“No, it’s not okay. This is my fault. I should never have gotten out of the car.”

She’s right. The words are right there, ready to spill out. You almost got us both killed. You put yourself in danger. You didn’t trust me when I told you it was a trap.

But looking at her face, seeing the terror and guilt written across her features, I can’t bring myself to say any of it.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispers, reaching for me.

I flinch away from her touch and climb out of the SUV. “I’m fine. Pavel, get Vesper cleaned up and take her home. Now.”

I can feel her staring at me, but I don’t look back. I can’t.

Not when I failed so completely to protect her. Not when I let my guard down and nearly got her killed. Not when the woman I love almost died because I was stupid enough to believe we could have one normal evening.

I knew Ihor would retaliate eventually. I knew he’d come for what mattered most to me.

But I let myself be convinced that maybe, just maybe, we could steal a few hours of happiness. That maybe Vesper was right about living our lives instead of just surviving them.

Turns out she was wrong.

And now, I know exactly what Ihor’s next move will be. He’s figured out my weakness, and he’s going to keep using it against me until one of us is dead.

The question is: Can I live with myself if it turns out to be her?