Page 87 of Twisted Proposal

The firefight lasted over an hour.

Solovyov's men were waiting for us at the docks. It was an all-out war and even with the men we had brought with us, we were outnumbered three to one.

I stood under the searing hot water. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kostya take a bullet to the arm, and I heard Mikhail swearing as he pulled a knife from his leg before he threw it into the throat of the man who stabbed him.

My brothers and cousins and I all made it out alive. Others didn't.

Then the real work began. We needed to send a message, and it needed to be loud enough to echo across every dark and depraved corner of the world.

We took hours disposing of the bodies in a way to make it damn near impossible to confirm ID. Gregor and I both stayed. We did the same dirty work as our men. I would never ask them to do something I wouldn't.

By the time we left the grisly scene, the sun was rising, and we were all exhausted.

As far as the man who dared to betray us, who lured us into the trap—his body was on top of the burning pyre built of what was left of Solovyov's men.

The message we left was clear, not only to Solovyov but to the Colombians and anyone else who believed the rumors that we had gone weak.

We did what needed to be done. That wasn't what had my heart aching and a pit forming in my stomach. It was what came after.

Once the pyre was reduced to ashes, we went back to Gregor's to recoup, send our condolences to the families of the men we lost. Later we would arrange for payouts to their loved ones, and plan for the funerals.

We had wounded Solovyov; we hadn't killed him yet. He would be back.

When we got to Gregor's house, my cousins, as well as Kostya, were met by their wives. It was touching to watch the way Samara wiped the blood off of Gregor's brow before pulling him into a tight hug and then berating him for putting himself in danger because she was worried.

Marina inspected Kostya's bullet wound, which had already been cleaned and packed, but she wanted to make sure they had done it right. Even Nadia was fretting over Mikhail, and it all made sense.

I finally saw it.

Kostya had once told me he married Marina to give her our name, to keep her safe. It wasn't until after he had made that decision that he had fallen for her. And it was some time after their...interesting wedding that she had fallen in love with him.

After watching her take care of him, I realized love wasn't the weakness I thought it was. It gave them strength. It didn't matter how outnumbered we were. There was not a single thing my brother or our cousins wouldn't do to get back to these women.

Their wives may have given them a vulnerability they didn't have before, but the way they cared for their men, the way they inspired their strength, was incredible.

Watching them together, I was acutely aware of a pit in my gut, one that I had never noticed before, but that I was pretty sure had always been there.

I glanced over at Pavel, expecting to see him on his phone or collapsed in a chair half asleep, but he was watching the scene in front of him while rubbing a spot in the center of his chest. He felt the same deep pain of loneliness I did.

The only difference was that while I had a woman waiting for me, she didn't love me. She hated me. After how brutally I punished her, taking my anger and my fear out on her innocent body, I was afraid I pushed her too far.

After some brief discussion, we all agreed that, for now, the planning could wait. It was far too early, and we needed sleep. This morning would be about recovering and letting the married men spend some time with their wives to remind them what we were fighting for.

The real reason I agreed was because I wanted to get back to the cabin. To Viktoria.

I scrubbed my skin, cleaning it of any hint of the violence and gore that I had witnessed and participated in tonight.

I didn't want Viktoria to be close to any of it.

Ever.

She could handle it, I was sure of that. But I didn't want her to have to.

She’d suffered enough under her father’s roof. My roof would be a safe haven for my wounded little bird. She deserved to be sheltered from the harsh realities of my world.

Once I was scrubbed clean, I went back into the bedroom where Viktoria slept soundly and poured myself a vodka. I considered crawling into bed with her, but I wasn't ready for that yet.

There was still too much tension in my shoulders, too much violence in my veins for me to lie so close to someone so precious.