Page 73 of Kidnapped Bride

"I made Kira a promise tonight," I said, keeping my boot exactly where it was. "I told her I wouldn't kill you. And I won't. Because unlike you, Viktor, when I give my word to someone, I keep it." I shifted my weight forward and heard him gargle out a few sounds. He shoved back on my sole but I leaned in harder. "Sohere's what happens now. You pull every man, every asset, every shipment, every operation out of my territory. All of it—every last piece. You pack up, you disappear, and you do not come back."

He made a strangled sound and I lifted my foot just enough to let him get them out. "You think…" He coughed and spat blood on the concrete beside his own head. "You can just?—"

I pressed down again and whatever he'd been about to say turned into a wet gurgle. "I'm not negotiating with you. This is not a conversation. I'm telling you how things work now and you're gonna do exactly what I've said." I held the pressure long enough to watch his eyes bulge and his hands claw harder at my ankle, and then I eased off again. "You have twelve hours. Every man, every asset, every operation, gone from my territory, and if I find a single one of your people still breathing in my area after twelve hours, we'll come back and finish this. And next time, Kira won't be there to talk me out of putting you in the ground."

I removed my boot and stepped back.

Markin rolled onto his side immediately, curling into a fetal position as he coughed so violently his whole body seized with each spasm.

One hand clutched at his throat and the other pressed flat against the concrete as he sucked air in ragged, desperate gulps.

Blood and spit drooled from his split lip and pooled under his cheek.

"You have twelve hours, Viktor."

Yakov hauled the two kneeling men to their feet by the backs of their collars and shoved them hard toward their boss. "Take himand get out of here," he growled, making the men scramble to Markin and pull him upright, each one ducking under an arm and dragging him toward the one intact SUV.

Markin twisted around and glared at me as they hauled him away. There was nothing but hatred on his face. If there weren't so many of us here, I was certain he would demand a gun and turn to start shooting.

I wished he would. Self-defense was the only reason Kira would accept that I had killed her father, to protect my life that I might remain to be a father of my own child.

But Xavier was defeated, and he let his men drag him off.

I turned my back on him, which might've been the most dangerous thing I could've done. A humiliated man with nothing left might find one last burst of stupid courage and reach for a gun. But he wasn't worth watching.

I heard the SUV doors slam and the engine turn over and the tires crunch as they pulled out.

Vlad emerged from between the container stacks with his gun resting on his shoulder. Blood was running down his left forearm, soaking through his sleeve above the wrist, and when I pointed at it he glanced down and shrugged. "Graze… Ricochet off one of the containers."

It was over.

The war we had been fighting for months was finally done, and hopefully, Xavier Markin had learned his lesson, that Dragonov territory was not his for the taking. And now, neither was his daughter.

"Gregg… You and the guys secure the dock, but don't stick around if you hear sirens." We hadn't heard the first one yet, but I knew how easily that could change. "Yakov… Take me to the safehouse. I'm exhausted."

Yakov nodded, already moving toward our car as the men started moving to clean things up.

Vlad hung back, helping Gregg with cleanup.

There were so many bodies and shell casings to collect, so much blood to wipe, it'd be a miracle if they got it finished before dawn. And if Markin knew what was good for him, he wouldn't alert the authorities, either.

It was time for me to go and crawl into bed beside Kira, and finally, it was time for me to rest.

I just hoped Markin knew what was good for him and by the time I woke up, he was out of my territory for good.

26

KIRA

My body was tight with exhaustion and stress and I had been in bed for hours, waiting for Nikolai and the men to return. But sleep refused to come.

I tossed and turned, hugging his pillow, then pushing it away when I'd think about how he might kill my father. Then tears would come and I'd hug it again because right now, he was the only thing anchoring me in place.

Finally, around three in the morning, the front door opened and closed, and I heard him stalking up the narrow hallway to our room.

I sat up in bed, flicking the light on before he opened the door, and he looked surprised to see me awake.

"I thought you'd be sleeping," he said softly. His eyes were heavy, and his hair was mussed from running his hand through it so much.