Page 39 of Pregnant By the Russian Pakhan

“Mark? Crush? Station yourselves at the sides of the orchard near the pool. The thermal sensors are picking up body heat in that direction. Shoot first and ask questions later,” he barked into the device he was using to communicate with his men.

An object like a drone began to buzz as it flew overhead. His first instinct was to shoot it down, but then he recalled a brand-new, illegal, military-grade technology he had read about. It looked like a drone, but every time anyone shot at it, it exploded and obliterated everything in a mile radius. Understanding dawned when he saw it and he realized why Dostoevsky hadn’t come with his men. They hadn’t come to fight; they had come to die and take everyone else with them.

Including Mira? he wondered in shock.

There was no time to think again. Acting purely on instinct, he leapt out of his hiding position and hauled the damned thing out of the air, flinging it into the pool. Once it hit the water, it gave a useless sizzle and died.

But his actions had exposed his position and a hail of bullets began to rain down on his hiding place. He was tucked beneath an iron shield. It was built in the similitude of a cave to lend credence to the garden/forest theme in that portion of the grounds, but it had been made of pure steel and covered with something made remarkably like rock. He ducked beneath it, confident no bullet could touch him.

As he lay there waiting for the shooting to pass, he heard Vlad whisper, “They want you cornered, boss. Seems they mean to take you alive. You’ve got two heading your way. Nine o’clock.”

Mikhail cocked his gun and waited. As soon as the first foot appeared in his line of sight, he fired at it. Its owner yelped and slammed to the ground, writhing in pain. The second person did not appear.

“Come in, Vlad. Number two?” he enquired, wondering why the second person didn’t show up.

“He took off when you got his companion.”

“Good. Now get me out of here,” he ordered his men.

Immediately a round of relentless shooting from all corners by his men forced the enemy gang to begin to abandon their hiding positions as they tried to run. The men of Mikhail’s Bratva intensified their shooting and several enemies went down. Mikhail gave the command to the person in the control room and infrared sensors were activated all over the outer parts of the property, cutting off all escape routes for the remaining Dostoevsky men.

The first person who tried to run through the sensors was sliced to ribbons right before the shocked eyes of his colleagues. They all skidded to a petrified halt. Then, as one, they turned around to look at Mikhail and his men.

“Let us go,” one of them shouted.

Mikhail gestured toward the gate which loomed in the distance. “There’s your freedom. Go.”

“There’s infrared,” one of them pointed out stupidly.

“Well, my friends, the way I see it is like this. Either you come spend quality time in my dungeon or you go through that infrared,” Mikhail purred in a gentle voice laced with pure steel.

The remaining five men exchanged glances. Then to his shock they joined their hands and began to walk backward until they walked right into the infrared and were obliterated.

Mikhail didn’t even bat an eyelid at the gory mess. He just turned to his men with a wicked smile. “Now that’s loyalty. Get our landscaping friends to clear this mess. And tell them I’m thinking of planting new flowers in the courtyards while they’re at it. This time I want orchids, if they can manage it. I think Dostoevsky’s men have a poor appreciation for beauty,” he continued conversationally. “They trampled my roses.”

A few hours later, he was not smiling as he listened to Vlad’s wife Regina recount what she had heard Mira say.

“Repeat her exact words to me again, Regina,” Mikhail ordered sternly for the fourth time in a row.

Regina stole a fearful glance at her husband and Vlad gave her an encouraging nod. The wives of Mikhail’s men feared him terribly and gave him a wide berth. Even when he occasionally joined in on their celebrations, they were deathly afraid of him. Everyone knew Mikhail could kill a man while smiling and step over his dead body without a trace of remorse.

“Maybe I misheard, sir,” Regina whimpered, beside herself with fright. In her thirteen years of being married to Vlad, this was the first time she’d ever been invited into Mikhail’s office.

“Speak your truth, Reggie,” her husband cautioned.

She looked over at her husband, and then visibly relaxed. “I heard her say, ‘It’s a good thing Father’s attacking the villa. If he doesn’t get Mikhail, I will.’ And that’s all I heard, sir. She was muttering real low under her breath.”

Mikhail came to stand in front of her, his expression inscrutable. “These words must stay between us three, Regina. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded at once. “I can do anything for you, sir. You’ve given my Vlad a place to belong, and status, and money. People everywhere respect him and no one on the streets would dare look him in the eye because of his connection to you. You’ve always protected us. When Mila was kidnapped, you went after her and brought her back to us. I can never thank you enough. My silence is yours to command.”

Mikhail was staggered. Regina had never strung together more than two sentences to him at any given time since Vlad had married her and brought her home. He’d never given it much thought, but if he had he would have just thought she tolerated him; she didn’t necessarily like him. But now, loyalty was dripping from her every word. And yes, he had done those things, but they had pretty much been par for the course. Vlad was loyal to him and as far as he was concerned, loyalty begat loyalty.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and then nodded to Vlad, dismissing both of them.

When he was finally alone, Mikhail went to the windows and thrust them open, letting the fresh air wash over him as he contemplated what his life had become. Evidently he was married to a beautiful, heartless woman with murderous intent toward him.

Vlad didn’t know about it, but Mikhail knew she had already made an attempt on his life.

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