Page 31 of Scarred Temptation
“Pakhan. We need to get you out of here.”
I’d made a mistake in not requiring my guards to remain by my side during the meeting, instead commanding them to keep a watch on the perimeter. Unfortunately, I’d miscalculated the opportunity, the chosen location with too many points of access. While that was my cross to bear, it didn’t mean I wasn’t filled with rage.
“Not until the ambulance arrives.”
“But sir,” he started, stopped immediately by my snarl.
“No! She saved my life. She will not be touched.”
Kristoff knelt by Grigor, feeling his pulse. “He’s gone.”
“I would hope so given his condition.” His body was twisted from being hit by the speeding sedan, bones broken in several locations.
Sergei moved into protective mode while Kristoff pushed back a crowd of onlookers.
“What happened?” Sergei asked, his gaze flickering to the bloodied woman in my arms.
“The vehicle came out of nowhere. Older black sedan with no plates.”
“I’ve already put men in the streets,” Kristoff told me. “We’ll find them.”
No, I doubted we would. Just like the attack on my daughter, the incident had been carefully planned, foiled by two women in the right place at the right time.
As the ambulance made their way through the crowd, the idea of how much a coincidence in having two guardian angels tickled the back of my mind.
EMTs jumped out, one immediately rushing toward us to access the situation.
“Sir,” he told Sergei. “We need you to move away.”
“Tol’ko cherez moy trup,” Sergei gritted out in response.
Over my dead body.
“It’s alright,” I told him. “She took a bullet. It went clean through, but she’s lost a lot of blood. I kept pressure and the bleeding appears to have stopped.”
Sergei continued cursing in Russian as he moved to the side, allowing the second EMT to approach with a gurney.
Her moan captured my attention once again and I brushed the bloodied tips of my fingers across her face. “Thank you, sweet angel. I will never forget what you did.”
I left the jacket. She needed it more than I did.
Just before I allowed the EMT to take over, I pulled out my phone, taking a picture.
After that, I allowed Sergei to walk me toward the awaiting SUV.
Now it was time to prepare for a war.
* * *
Leadership was earned, respected positions highly coveted within every organization. Or at least a top-level position should be awarded only after a solid display of hard work and dedication.
In the world of the Bratva, loyalty and respect were of the utmost importance. Everyone within the Russian syndicate had had to prove their worth with acts of blood and perseverance in the face of opposition on several occasions.
I’d been born into my position, groomed into becoming the next great king of an empire. From the day I was born, I’d been reminded of my worth as well as scolded for wanting anything different than the savage legacy of blood staining the streets of Moscow and now Charlotte.
My father had chosen the location for two reasons. One being the excellent port system, including the city being on the East Coast. Settling into the atmosphere of Southern charm wasn’t about servicing Russia but Europe instead. His carefully placed kingdom had earned him a fortune.
The other had been providing my mother with the fantasy she’d dreamt of on all those cold, snow-driven nights. With the honor of being the firstborn came the grueling responsibility to carry on as required. A cross around my neck or in my case, a thick corded rope.
