why? How had they gotten passed security? No one should have been able to breach the grounds without proper access.
Oh, God.
I hoped Batya hadn’t returned from his business meeting yet. What if he’d gotten caught in the crossfire? What if he was—
Focus. You put yourself at great risk once you let fear guide your actions.
He had often spoken those sage words to me when I was young. Back when I’d still been having nightmares of what had happened to me at the orphanage in Siberia. I repeated them to myself over and over as I rushed down the hall, keeping myself plastered against the wall, in case a gun-wielding psychopath happened to come stampeding around the corner.
My father had always made it a point to distance me from his life as the leader of the largest organized crime syndicate in Russia. I never asked questions, because I didn’t want to know the specifics. But I knew the basics. And I knew some level of risk always surrounded me, being the only daughter of a Russian mobster. We’d had some security concerns over the years, though nothing truly serious had ever involved me.
I never thought I’d have to worry about people shooting up my own home.
This was unprecedented. You didn’t break into Sergei Kozlov’s house and directly threaten those close to him without signing your own death certificate. I knew Batya had killed men for much less.
As I was about to round the last corner before I came upon the main stairwell, a hard body slammed into me, nearly knocking me flat on my arse. Two strong hands caught me in the scuffle, just as a scream climbed up my throat. One of those hands clamped over my mouth, preventing the sound from escaping.
That’s when I looked up into two exotic amber eyes.
“Shh,” Nico whispered in an urgent tone. His eyes were wide and alert as they quickly inspected my body. “Are you okay?”
I was so shocked that he’d run back inside the house after me—toward the bullets—that all I could manage to do was nod.
“We need to get out of here now. My driver is armed, but he won’t be able to barricade himself near the car forever. We have to hurry up.”
My voice was strained when I was finally able to find words. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t fucking know. All I do know is those aren’t warning shots. Whoever is firing, they’re doing it with purpose.”
Meaning, they have a target. Or multiple targets.
His muscular arm banded over my waist and pushed me up against the wall as he peeked around the corner. His body was vibrating with adrenaline. I could feel it emanating from the hand he placed on my hip. But he wasn’t shaking in fear. He didn’t even seem nervous. He seemed…practiced?
That’s when I noticed the gun in his other hand. A gun he looked very capable holding. The weapon looked like an extension of his body, he seemed so comfortable handling it. Batya said Nico’s family had connections with the New York Firm. Did that make him mafia, too? Or was he just indirectly affiliated with it? Either way, he didn’t seem to be a novice at knowing what to do in a dangerous, possibly deadly, situation.
“Did you see my father anywhere out there? Or Dimitri?”
“No,” he said absently. “And I’m pretty sure your boyfriend can handle himself.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to again insist that Dimitri wasn’t and never had been my boyfriend. But that wasn’t even in the realm of priorities right then, so I kept my mouth shut.
Nico took another few seconds to assess the hallway before stepping away from the wall. “Okay, I think we’re clear. Let’s move.”
He grabbed my hand and hauled me behind him before I had the chance to even take a breath. We ran down the stairs, his hand maintaining that tight grip on mine. My pulse was thundering so loudly in my ears I could barely hear the gunfire in the background.
I have no idea why my brain went to this place in that moment—life or death situations warp the mind, I suppose—but I couldn’t fathom why a man like Nico had bothered to come in after me. We’d barely been married a full hour. We didn’t know each other. He was in no way responsible for my well-being. He had no loyalty to me.
Yet he’d taken his own life in his hands by running into a gunfight to save me.
Why?
What did he care