Page 75 of The Bratva Sinner

Damien has walked away, talking in a hushed tone.

He returns and says nothing. I glance up and freeze when I see the look on his face. “What?” I ask.

“Fire at the house. The stables.”

Something inside me goes very, very still. “Lila?”

“She’s alive. Ran into the burning building to save the horses. Mike had to drag her out.”

I move quickly, throwing the clipboard at the delivery driver. “Let’s go.”

“Maksim, the fire’s out.”

I slide into the driver’s seat. Damien barely gets the passenger door closed before I’m screeching my tires out of the parking lot. Sampson tries to follow, but I’m faster.

“What the hell happened?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” His thumbs are flying over his phone’s screen.

“She’s fine?”

“Fine. Ava was on her way to the house when it happened.”

“I want a real doctor.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I’ll let you say that to her. She wasn’t inside when it went up.”

She ran into a burning building.Fuck.The woman has absolutely no sense of self-preservation. I’ve got her locked down, and she’s still in danger.

I weave through traffic, ignoring the speed limit and every red light. Images flash through my mind. Her trapped in the flames, the roof collapsing, and her body burned beyond recognition.

The drive takes fifteen minutes but feels like hours. I don’t bother pulling the car into the garage. That’ll take too long.

Mike meets me at the door. “Med room. Ava’s with her.”

I rush down the hall. The med room door is open.

She’s sitting up in bed with an oxygen mask covering half her face. Soot covers her cheeks and forehead, and streaks throughher hair. Her clothes are filthy. And shit, she stinks. Not her, but the smoke clinging to her. But she’s breathing. She’s conscious.

She’s alive.

Again, relief at seeing her blue eyes is nearly my undoing. How many more times can I do this? How many lives does she have? I think she’s used four in a matter of weeks. There’s only so much luck a person has. Hers will eventually run out.

Ava looks up. “She’s okay. Smoke inhalation and some minor burns on her hands. Another minute in there, and we’d be having a different conversation.”

I nod, not trusting my voice yet.

Lila’s eyes meet mine. The mask over her mouth and nose fogs. Even exhausted and covered in soot, she lifts her chin defiantly, like she’s daring me to lecture her about running into a burning building. And I will. Later.

Mike appears beside me. “Boss, the girl has a death wish. She’s a full-time job. I’m going to need a raise.” He’s trying to be funny to lighten the mood.

I’m not amused.

“Get out,” I say quietly.

He leaves without another word.

I watch as Ava glances between us, reading the tension in the room. “I’m going to get some water,” she says.