Page 91 of Obsessed Bratva King

I run for Cora, slicing through the ropes holding her in an instant.

Darren jerks his head toward me. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t do a thing,” I reply. “But we have an employee who’s fucking good with computers though. Got into your secure network and might have deleted a few things. Whoops.”

He roars with rage, pointing a gun my way. “You’re a fucking dead man. Do you have any idea how much that shit was worth? Years of work, my father’s entire empire. Destroyed for her? I hope she was worth it.”

“She is,” I reply. “You going to shoot or what? I haven’t got all night.”

He laughs coldly. “Bold to the end. Goodbye, Ivan.”

Gunshots shatters the silence. I wince, shoving Cora behind me.

The windows explode inward, raining shards of glass over the warehouse floor. Darren looks down at his chest, a bloom of red appearing. “What the fuck,” he mutters as his legs give way, the gun falling from his hand.

A split second later, Bratva soldiers storm the building.

Darren is still looking down at his chest, his hand trembling as it presses against the spreading bloom of crimson soaking through his shirt.

His eyes widen, as if he can’t quite believe it.

As if he didn’t think this was how he would die.

Then—his legs buckle.

He hits the ground hard, coughing, choking, the wet sound of blood filling the space between us.

I exhale sharply, my limbs suddenly feeling heavier.

The gun slips from my fingers.

The pain—I register it too late.

Warmth seeps through my side, soaking my shirt, dripping onto the floor. I try to straighten, but my knees give out beneath me.

A pair of arms catch me before I hit the ground.

Cora.

She kneels beside me, her hands gripping my shoulders, holding me up. Her breaths are ragged, her fingers shaking as they press against the wound in my side.

I barely feel it.

My gaze drifts to the ruined laptop across the room, sparks hissing from the shattered screen.

I shift my head just enough to look at Darren, his body twitching on the cold concrete. His breaths are wet, labored, his blood pooling beneath him. He’s reaching for his gun. “Finish this,” I say to Cora.

She nods, taking my gun and walking up to Darren. “Wait,” he mutters. “I’ll give you all the money in the world.”

“I don’t want it,” she replies, pulling the trigger an instant later. “You messed with the wrong girl, you son of a bitch.”

His eyes glaze over forever, his body slumping on the ground, unmoving.

I force out a rough, ragged chuckle.

“Maybe I should have let you handle this,” I say. “I fucked up.”

She is shaking, her hands cradling my face.

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