Page 131 of Betrothed
I struggled with her in my arms, fighting to get us both on our feet.
Dante threw an arm out and helped Kazimir and immediately we were guided away from the melee and toward the street. People were everywhere, fire engines with sirens screaming and firefighters dragging hoses.
I crushed her against me, taking gasping breaths. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”
“Why does this keep happening?” she moaned.
Even with every muscle aching, I was able to laugh.
As the fire continued to roll, Dante and the other soldiers moved to where we’d been taken. I stared at the building, shaking my head.
“One of them got away,” Dante said. “We ran after him, but he was too fast. We were lucky to get out. The entire building is a shitshow.”
“Close-cropped hair in a waiter’s uniform?” I asked.
“Yeah. With a surly smile.”
Kazmir chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder. We both knew what that meant.
Mikhail was alive and well.
“And the games are still on.” Kazimir’s reaction was one of exhaustion. Mikhail would eventually try again.
Only the next time we would be ready.
For anything.
For now, I would concentrate on the other aspects of my life.
Including the fact I’d just gotten married.
* * *
Vivian
“No, put it right there,” I instructed, biting back a laugh as I did.
Kirill groaned and threw me a look over his shoulder. “You do realize you’ve moved this one heavy piece four times.”
“It needs to be right. You do want a happy wife, right?”
“At the expense of my back?”
“Give her a break, Kirill,” Dimitri growled. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can have a beer.”
With a grunt, Kirill nodded. “Over there and it will be perfect,” I told him.
“It better be. Or else.” He gave me his usual heated look, which forced me to smile. We’d purchased a new house so there wouldn’t be ghosts running around as we built a life. Since the Bratva had already invaded New York, I could keep my job and remain close to my family.
With Enzo’s death, Nikki had returned home and in truth, she was more relieved than anything else. Yet I sensed she was emotionally drained. We all were. What we’d been through was horrific. Life altering.
And had forced us all to appreciate what we had.
In the four weeks following the colossal fire, my uncle had been surprisingly quiet, but he’d lived up to his end of the bargain, theoil and gas company purchased in conjunction with the Chertov Corporation.
While I’d been privy to several business conversations, there’d been little discussion about the Ghost and what might have occurred.
In truth, we were all still weary from the experience.
