“Thank you. I thought you’d like it.”
I peek over the edge of the wall, and only see Pavlovic’s head pop out from behind the tree for a second.
Wanting answers to the many questions I have, I ask, “Why go after Europe when you don’t have an army to rule it with?”
“I don’t want Europe.” There’s a moment's silence. “I only want your life.”
I frown at Mariya, who looks confused as hell. “Maybe you killed someone close to him?”
“Fuck if I know,” I mutter.
Then Pavlovic shouts, “You killed my father six years ago.”
“I’ve killed many people,” I say as I rise to my feet, done with this fucking cat and mouse game.
“Luca,” Mariya hisses, then she stands up, training her weapon on the tree.
“Why stay hidden for so long, only to give your position away today?”
“I wanted you to find me, or you still wouldn’t have a fucking clue where I was,” he chuckles. “I want to meet face to face so that I can get my revenge.” Pavlovic quickly peeking around the tree.
“Well, you’re shit out of luck.” With the barrel of my gun on the tree, I say, “Today, you’ll join your father.”
Pavlovic darts out from behind the tree, and then a fuck-ton of shots are fired between us.
Bullets rattle his body, and he drops to his knees, blood spurting from his mouth in a cough. I keep my weapon trained on him as I walk closer.
A smile spreads over Pavlovic’s face. “I won’t be going alone.”
Too late, I see the detonation device in his hand.
It’s not an armored vest.
Christ.
I turn around and run for Mariya, shouting, “Down, baby! Get down.”
“Luca!” she screams, darting toward me.
A wave of heat blasts into my back as I grab hold of Mariya and dive over a low wall with her. A second. That’s all I have before debris flies everywhere, bricks from the wall slamming into me.
I cover Mariya, not feeling the pain immediately.
A hissing sound fills my ears, and disorientated, I lift my head, glancing around us as burning leaves and bark rain down on us.
I push myself up, the movement jarring my body. It feels like my back was shredded.
Not thinking of myself, I search my wife’s body for any wounds. When I’m sure she’s okay, I sit flat on my ass, sucking in deep breaths of air.
People come out of their homes, the owner of the house where we took cover gaping at us with wide eyes.
Mariya lets out a shocked burst of laughter, shakes her head, then focuses her eyes on me. Her lips part, a gasp tearing from her.
She darts up and crouches behind me. “Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.”
“I’m okay.” My back hurts like a fucking bitch.
“The armored vest has been shredded,” she tells me before she starts to peel it from my torso. I feel her hand brush over my back, then her arms wrap around me, and she presses her face into the back of my neck.
I take it as a good sign. If I were hurt badly, she’d be screaming my head off right now.
Climbing to my feet, I groan, pretty sure the force of the blast cracked a rib or two. “Come, baby, we have to move.”
Mariya glances around us, then quickly picks up our guns before gluing herself to my side.
As if nothing happened, we walk away from the scene.
“I guess that means we can’t come to the Netherlands again,” she mutters as she checks over her shoulder.
“Nah, I’ll pay a couple of people to cover it up.”
“Oh, good. There was still a lot I wanted to see.”
I chuckle, then flinch.
“I saw that!” She starts to inspect me while we’re heading over the hill.
“I think I broke a rib. Or two.”
She lifts my shirt, making sure I’m not wounded, before saying, “You feel fine otherwise?”
“Yeah, just banged up.” As we near the SUV, I ask, “How are you liking your honeymoon?”
Mariya grins up at me. “Dodging bullets and killing our enemies? It wouldn’t be our lives if it were any different.”
I tug her closer and press a kiss to her mouth. It quickly grows wild until we’re devouring each other in front of the motel for all to see.
Another enemy is dead.
With my wife by my side, we’ll face whoever else comes at us. We’ll win every time, and together we’ll rule.
Epilogue
Mariya
Three months later…
Holy shit.
I blink at the monitor, not processing what the doctor said.
Luca is just as shocked as I am as he asks, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Dr. Matthews points at the screen. “Those are two heartbeats.”
Twins.
We’re having twins.
“But…” I frown. “There’s no history of twins in our families.”
Not that I know of.
“You’re having identical twins. One egg split into two. The odds are one in two-hundred-and-fifty.”
Slowly I look at Luca. His eyes meet mine, and a second later, his hands frame my face, and he kisses the ever-loving shit out of me, not caring about the doctor.