Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet #2) - Nicole Fox Page 0,6

way, we leave so the bar can be scrubbed and cleaned and the bodies disposed of.

I’m jittery after four cups of coffee and two hours of sleep, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins assures me I won’t get tired. Not until after this is done.

Petr put out feelers and heard word back early this morning that Fedor is holing up in an Italian warehouse on the edge of the city. He knows if he shows his face in any of his old haunts or any of the Kornilov turf, he’ll have to face me. So, I’m going to go face him.

My men need to know I’m not afraid of a fight. They need to see that I’m willing to go to war for them, that I will do what I can to neutralize any threats against our family and our business. Even if that threat is my own flesh and blood.

“I think you should stay behind,” Petr says again, adjusting his bulletproof vest and checking his gun for the third time. “It doesn’t make sense for you to lead the charge. If you are killed, how long will the Bratva last? What chance do any of us have?”

Petr is the obvious next choice for leader of the Bratva, though clearly, he doesn’t have much faith in his own abilities. Honestly, with Fedor becoming a rival, I have to agree with him. Under normal circumstances, Petr is good with people and knows how to make hard choices, but no one is prepared to counter my brother’s level of crazy like I am. I’ve been talking Fedor back from moral ledges his entire life. This ledge is a little more precarious than the others, but I have hope I can do it again.

“If I’m seen hiding behind my men, how long will it last then?”

Petr doesn’t answer, and I know it’s because he agrees with me. Everyone is afraid, and I have to be willing to stand up and show them I’m not if I want to save what I’ve built.

The warehouse sits at the back of a large, empty plot of land. We are not discreet as SUV after SUV rolls down the road towards the warehouse. I have about twenty men in total with weapons, ready to take down anyone who comes into our path. I would never allow my men to take out civilians and innocents, but anyone involved in the attack we saw at the bar last night is not innocent. They deserve to pay for what they did.

The plan is to jump out the moment the cars stop and lay waste to the warehouse. Bust our windows, shoot through walls, and storm inside and take it if the opportunity presents itself. I don’t want to lose any men—I don’t have many left to lose—but I want to make Fedor understand that I will not roll over and let him treat the city like his own hellish playground. I want him to know I can kill, and I will if pushed.

As soon as the SUV screeches to a stop, Petr and I share a look before throwing open our doors and jumping from the car. I take cover behind the armored car door and am ready to fire when the metal double doors of the warehouse open and a woman comes walking out.

A pregnant woman.

The animal part of my brain sees the long brown hair and the obviously pregnant stomach and thinks of Molly.

She is carrying my child and now Fedor has her. He has captured her and is going to kill her in front of me.

I’m so overcome with terror and rage and blind panic that it takes me several seconds to realize Molly isn’t showing yet, and Fedor doesn’t know she is pregnant. This woman can’t be Molly.

I lift a hand for my men to hold, and on cue, Fedor comes walking out of the warehouse with his gun raised, pointed directly at the pregnant woman’s head.

We are far enough away that I can’t make out the woman’s face, but I can tell by the shaking in her shoulders that she is sobbing. Her arms are raised in surrender, and my plans of revenge fall around me like ash.

To take out Fedor, I’d have to kill a pregnant woman. He knows I never would. He is counting on it.

Petr’s words from the bar ring in my head: His army is growing, and he is willing to do things we aren’t. If he keeps it up,