The Bratva's Bride (Wicked Doms 2) - Page 75

Amaranov blinks at me, then looks at Calina on the couch. Is she breathing? Is she okay?

I turn to face Amaranov. He pushes his thick, meaty fists on the desk to push himself to rising, and stops the guard who barges into the office.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks in a growl.

“I’m Larissa Brague,” I tell him, my voice tremulous but strong. “Wife to Demyan Federov. I am the woman you want, not her. The woman who lies here is my sister. She isn’t the one you want. You want me, and you can have me, if you let her go and get her the help she needs.”

He narrows his terrible eyes at me, then looks to her and back again. “She isn’t you,” he says, mulling it over. Then his eyes brighten. “And you are Federov’s. The girl that I want.”

“I am.” I speak loud and clear. “My husband is a bit protective.” I decide to push this a little further. “But if you side with his brotherhood, they can give you what you’ve asked for. I’ll see to it myself.” I want to run to Calina. I steal a glance at her. She’s bandaged and white, her eyes closed as she sleeps. Her chest rises and falls.

She’s alive.

My skin prickles when he draws near. Somehow, I’m saddened that I don’t hear them coming behind me. Even though I don’t want Demyan to come in here, why isn’t he at least trying?

Has he been captured? Will he go back to jail? The thought of him being hauled back there makes nausea swirl in my belly. I’ve made such a mess of all this.

“Such a pretty little girl,” Amaranov says. My stomach knots when he steps so close his breath ruffles my hair. Everything about him repulses me. Literally, everything. I gave myself to Demyan for Calina. Can I do so again?

And when all this is over, will there be any of me left?

Amaranov reaches for my hair, sending an unpleasant shiver down my spine when he grasps it in his hand.

“So pretty and soft,” he says. But he doesn’t get any further. A crash sounds behind the desk and Amaranov starts. Demyan, Maksym, and Glen enter the room, guns drawn.

“If you touch her again, I’ll break every one of your fingers,” Demyan says with unnerving calm, his gun trained on Amaranov. “Step away from her. Let her go.”

Amaranov smirks and it sickens me. “Not so simple, Federov. Do you wish to spend life in prison? Pointing a gun at an official will have you serving life behind bars.”

Demyan doesn’t respond. He’s willing to do whatever it takes.

“Fuck prison,” he says. “I’ll lay in a grave before you touch her. So kill me. I’ll come back from the dead and haunt your every waking hour.” He stalks toward us, his gun so close to Amaranov, it nearly touches him. “You will see her sister is taken care of. You will pay your son for his work. Then you will go on with your job as if none of this ever happened. We will see to it that your funds are taken care of free of charge.” Demyan smiles mirthlessly and his voice drops to a lethal whisper. “And you will scour the memory of the Brague sisters from your mind.”

I love him. This fearless, possessive man, ferocious and loyal to the death.

Amaranov shakes his head. “Never,” he says. “You filthy criminal.”

Demyan cocks his gun, prepared to shoot.

“If you kill me, you’ll never see the light of day again,” Amaranov continues.

I can’t breathe, there’s so much pressure on my chest. Something is going to break, and I can’t let it be me.

Amaranov turns to me, reaches for my arm, when a shot rings out behind him. I scream when crimson stains Amaranov between his eyes, and his hulking body slumps to the floor with a crash that makes everything around us rattle. Was it Demyan? But no, Demyan is as surprised as I am.

I look at the room behind this office, shocked to see Amaranov’s wife walking in the room coolly, holding a pistol, her lips pressed in a thin line.

“It’s a shame the pressure of the jobs caused my husband to kill himself,” she says as she crouches beside him and arranges his fingers around the pistol. “Such a shame he left me a goodbye note.” Her voice hardens. “Such a shame he’ll never take another innocent girl as his mistress.”

She stands and walks to Glen. “So sad his son had to witness his last moments, when he came to make peace?”

She kicks the lifeless body.

“It’s an end to an era.”Demyan and I go to Calina. He gets to her first, kneels in front of her, and lifts her wrist.

“Her pulse is weak,” he says. “We will get her to a doctor immediately.”

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