Sweet Collateral

Nero strides over and kicks the man in the gut, hard enough that he lands on his back, gasping for air. The Russian’s suit is covered in dust, and blood trickles from his nose, pouring down his chin.

“Nicholai Ivanov,” Nero drags him to his feet. “How the mighty have fallen.”

“Nero Verdi,” Nicholai says and then laughs. “You reach too far. You will not make it out of the country alive.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” Nero cups his ear. “I don’t hear anything. Oh, wait. That’s because no one is coming. You are all out of allies, Nicholai.”

His teeth clench. “I need no allies. I have an army. My Elite will end you, and your child will be mine.”

“Your Elite are dying as we speak. Killed by your own…your best. You did make Una quite formidable.”

“I made her strong. I made her the best…”

“You fucking broke her!” Nero shouts, his cool slipping just a little. I can relate. I can’t remain calm or rational where Anna is involved. We all have our weaknesses. “But you’re right, Nicholai. You made her strong. Strong enough to put an end to you.”

“Una is mine. She will always be what I made her.” A sick grin spreads across Nicholai’s lips. Anyone would think he wants to die. Nero is not a man to provoke.

“You’re about to see what happens when you try and take what’s fucking mine.” He nods at Gio who drags Nicholai toward the car. He’s shoved in the back seat.

Nero clenches and releases his fists. I bet he’s wishing he hadn’t promised Una the kill right now. He looks like he wants to tear Nicholai limb from limb with his bare hands. The man did take not only his woman but also his child. I’d say his wrath is well earned.

“I can’t wait to see this,” I say. I’ve always wondered what Una would be like fully unleashed.

I guess I’m about to find out.

52

Anna

We drive over the mangled remains of the metal gate, dodging the bodies littering the driveway, both Russians and Rafael’s men. The gatehouse is on fire, and parts of the courtyard are destroyed and smoking. For the first time, I realize the full gravity of the situation—the scale of destruction. We come to a stop, and I get out of the car, stepping over the body of a fallen Elite. I’m strangely detached about all the death, noting that they all look like little matching broken dolls in their black uniform. I move around the front of the Hummer and stop beside Rafael. He grabs my waist and hoists me up onto the hood as though he’s trying to keep me above all the death and chaos. His body settles between my knees, and I absentmindedly trace circles on the back of his neck as we wait.

Movement catches my attention, and I glance up to see Una step through the front door of the villa, a blonde guy at her side. Another Elite. Several of Rafael’s men file out after her, most bloodstained and looking weary. Una’s cool gaze skims the scene in front of her, stopping on me. Blood splatter covers her neck and cheek, tinting the end of her white ponytail red, her appearance finished by an array of guns and knives strapped to her body. She’s every inch the killer, a machine, a weapon. I’m not sure if I’m in awe or terrified of her. The guy beside her looks even more lethal than she does. His eyes constantly shift, scanning, assessing, as though he’s expecting an attack any minute and more than ready to counter it.

“That’s Sasha,” Rafael whispers over his shoulder to me. “The one who smuggled the child out of Nicholai’s compound.” That’s when the recognition hits me. He’s the one who held me down for her to take my finger.

I study him further, the way he angles his body slightly to Una’s as though willing to take a bullet for her. He loves her or at least has strong loyalty to her.

“Now that everyone’s here…” Nero opens the back door of the car and drags Nicholai out. His suit is rumpled and dirty from the desert floor, and blood still streams down his chin, spreading across his shirt. He seems so small compared to the insane man I met in Russia.

Nicholai glares at Una and then the man beside her. “You,” he says to Sasha, his voice layered in accusation and disappointment. “I gave you both everything.”

Una shifts in front of Sasha, like a sibling protecting him from the wrath of an angry father. “You gave us nothing. You took everything.” She holds a hand out to Sasha and he places two knives in her waiting palm. “You believed yourself invincible, protected by your army. Protected by your children. Look at you now.” I do not expect her to throw the knives to the ground. They clatter to a stop just in front of Nicholai. “Pick them up.” She cracks her neck from side to side as she paces a few feet toward Nero and back again. “Fucking pick them up!” she shouts when he doesn’t respond.