Page 151 of Wicked Refusal

What’s she doing here?

“Mia.”

My voice is a whisper. Mia’s gaze flits to me, full of concern, but she doesn’t dare look away from Desya. She’s too smart for that.

Instead, she cocks the gun Desya stole from me. “Get away from my fiancé,” she orders.

“Your fiancé?” Desya lets out a cruel laugh. “Damn. I guess congratulations are in order. Sorry I didn’t bring a gift.”

“The gun in your hand will do.”

“Mia,” I grit, “leave. I can’t protect you if?—”

“You don’t need to.” Her jaw sets. “I’m protecting you.”

“Aww. Isn’t that adorable?” Desya digs the mouth of his gun harder into my forehead. I’ve never wanted to kill someone with my bare hands more, but right now, I can’t afford to act recklessly. Not when Desya can easily punish Mia for it. “But I’m afraid this is a private party. See, you’re not welcome here.”

“Then you shouldn’t have invited me.”

“Me? Invited you?” He barks another laugh. “No way. I wasn’t planning on sharing.”

Invited?I can’t follow the conversation. I feel like I’m missing a crucial piece.

Surprise flits across Mia’s face, too, but only briefly. Soon, she’s looking murderous again. “Final warning,” she says. “Let him go, or I shoot.”

“What, with that soggy old thing?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

But I don’t. Her hands are shaking hard, she’s got no training whatsoever, and that gun, while theoretically waterproof, just took a dive in the Hudson.

I’m not risking it. I’m not riskingher.

SoItake a chance.

It takes everything to summon my last ounce of strength. But once I do?—

Once I do, I stop feeling pain.

I grab Desya’s ankle and twist hard. His body tilts, off-balance, his foot dislodged from my injured shoulder. He tries to shoot, but the sand eats his bullet.

Then another gunshot echoes. And another. And another.

Mia’s face is a mask of panic as she pulls the trigger. She’s a nurse—she’s never had to hurt someone. Never broke her oath before.

But now, for me, she shatters it.

Desya’s body sways. He looks down at his chest, filled with bullet holes, with a horrified sort of disbelief.

Then he falls off the pier.

I watch the dark waters churn around his body. Bubbles come up to the surface in a heated froth until it all turns still. As calm as the grave.

He’s dead.He’s really dead.

“Yulian!” Mia drops the gun and rushes to me. “Are you okay?! Where are you hurt?!”

I want to answer. Want to raise my hands to her shaking shoulders, cup her face and kiss her. But then the world starts tipping over.