64
IVAN
Cora is swaying over Francia’s body, blood dripping from her fingertips onto the tile floor.
She looks like hell, but she did it.
Cora killed Francia.
Since the moment I got the call at the warehouse, all I’ve wanted to do is get to Cora. Now, I take a moment to admire her. Bloodstained and breathless and fucking fierce. My queen.
Then she takes a stumbling step away from Francia and I can’t wait another goddamn second. I need to hold her and feel her, warm and alive, in my arms.
Cora keeps backing up until she thuds against my chest. I catch her with an arm around her waist and press my lips to her ear. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
She jolts for only a second before she sinks against my chest. “Ivan.”
“You were fucking incredible,” I whisper. “You did everything right. Everything we taught you. You were amazing.”
If I had things my way, Cora would have never learned to fight. It wouldn’t have been necessary. But I’m glad she did. She took care of herself and I could not be prouder.
Her head lolls back against my shoulder. “I’m tired. My head… I’m dizzy.”
I press a kiss to her temple—the same spot where, just a few minutes ago, Francia had pointed a gun. I’m not sure the image of Cora on the ground at Francia’s mercy will ever fully leave my head. That is the kind of shit that haunts you.
I’ll remember it forever.
And make sure it never happens again.
“You’re okay now,” I tell her. “I’m going to get you to the doctor. You’ll rest and be fine.”
She sighs. “Thank you, Ivan.”
I’m so focused on her heartbeat fluttering in her throat and the way her lips part around a sigh that I don’t hear the footsteps behind me until it’s almost too late.
At the last second, I push Cora forward and spin around, positioning myself between her and the threat.
In this case, the threat is Alexander McAllister. And he’s pointing a gun directly at my chest.
At this point, I’m more annoyed than anything. When are these bastards going to give up?
“I knew you weren’t going to disappear. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.”
He grimaces, his face screwed up in rage. “Francia told you she had a backup plan.”
“You are her backup plan?” I almost laugh. “You hitched your horse to that crazy bitch? You must have been desperate.”
“You left me no choice! Konstantin made his deal with you and cut me out. After everything I did—for him, for Mikhail—they… they all abandoned me. Me and Francia. Because of you. Both of you.”
As Alexander has been talking, I’ve edged ever so slightly away from Cora. One half-step at a time, I’ve moved so the gun isn’t aiming at Cora at all. She’s off to the side, staying quiet and still. Alexander is fully focused on me.
“You could have left Cora alone. You didn’t have to drag her back home and marry her off.”
“I needed that arrangement with the Sokolovs to—”
“You weren’t starving in the streets. You didn’t need anything. You wanted it. You got greedy and you took a risk. I never would have bothered you if you hadn’t taken her from me.”
“You took her from me,” he rages. His face is red and sweating. “She was promised to Mikhail and I was going to make sure that deal happened. Then you showed up. It ruined everything. Konstantin Sokolov was going to sink me if I didn’t complete the deal. And now, my name is trashed. No one is going to come to me. What good is a fixer with an endless trail of scandals in his wake?”
Yet again, I could take a shot at Alexander, but he might shoot back before he falls. He could kill me where I stand.
I’d rather it be me than Cora, but if there’s any way we can both make it out of tonight together, I’m going to take it.
So I wait for an opening, gun clutched in my right hand.
“About as good as a fixer who is charged with double homicide in the death of his stepdaughter and her husband,” I tell him icily. “You say you’re ruined, but this will ruin you, Alexander. Right now, you could walk away and make a life for yourself. But if you pull that trigger, it’s over.”
He leans in close, the gun still aimed at my chest. “It’s over for Alexander McAllister either way. After tonight, he’s going to disappear. I have enough money left to start over. I’ll kill the two of you, kill Evaline, and then leave the country. Everyone will assume I died and I’ll start over fresh. Far, far away from the influence of the Pushkins and the Sokolovs.”
Cora is staring at him, open-mouthed. I don’t want her to say anything to draw his attention, so I ask the question I know is on her mind.
“You’d really kill your own wife?”
“Evaline was a means to an end,” he spits. “Every man needs someone to keep their household running and their dick wet. You know something about that, don’t you, Ivan? Why else would you choose Cordelia when you thought she was nothing more than a waitress?”
Fuck it. I’ll take my chances and shoot him dead right now.
Before I can even raise my gun, Cora flies out of nowhere and throws herself on Alexander’s back.
“You selfish son of a bitch!” she screams, clawing at his face and his neck. “You ruined my life, you asshole! I won’t let you kill my mother, too!”
Alexander is too busy trying to stay on his feet to remember he has a gun in his hand. He stumbles back and forward, trying to shake Cora off.
Finally, he bends forward and Cora slips. She ramps up to jump on him again, but Alexander raises his arm and cracks the back of his hand across her face.
Cora’s head jerks to one side. She falls to her knees and slides across the tile floor.
“You fucking bi—” Alexander starts to hiss.
But the first half of the word is barely off his lips when I press my gun to his head and pull the trigger.
No last words. No hesitation. Blood sprays and Alexander crumples to the floor in a useless heap.
“No one puts hands on my woman and survives,” I snarl over his lifeless body.
One last victim of my fucking rampage.