Page 46 of Vendetta Vows

"Sounds like you have a list of suspects already."

"Nothing more than some educated guesses." I rake a hand through my hair. "Lev warned me about the jungle tearing itself down right before he got killed. I think that process just got started."

"Understood."

"One more thing, Artyom." I lower my voice. "Aurora packed a bag. Grab it and bring it to the family mansion after the funeral tomorrow."

"Consider it done."

I hang up and stare at the mansion looming before me. Nineteen years of staying away, of building something separate from Vitaly's legacy, of pretending like this place wasn't going to force me back…

All of it undone in a single day.

I spent my entire adult life avoiding this place and this life. Now I'm voluntarily walking back into its jaws, dragging Aurora with me.

The pristine white columns, the manicured gardens stained with memories of my childhood, the cool halls shrouded in shadows.

Every inch of this place is soaked in the blood money of the Dragunov bratva.

I turn my gaze from the mansion to the sky above. The setting sun bleeds crimson across the horizon, painting everything in the color of violence.

I hate this mansion with all my heart.

I hate this bratva with all my heart.

And now, in a dark twist of fate, I'm about to become the guardian to them both.

13

AURORA

I followDaria through endless hallways of gleaming marble, unable to ignore the men patrolling with rifles slung casually across their chests. Their eyes track me as I pass, not leering but assessing.

Like I'm a potential threat rather than a blood-spattered woman in shock.

"How many people live here?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"This mansion has been empty for years," Daria answers. "Ever since the master of the house passed."

We ascend the stairs past marble balustrades and move deeper inside. As I stare up at the intricate stonework, I can't help feeling like I'm being swallowed whole by some giant stone creature.

"One minute, please," Daria opens a door to reveal a suite larger than the apartment I shared with Hannah. "Shower is through that door. I'll have clothes for you on the bed along with some food."

The door closes with a soft click behind me.

In the bathroom, I peel off my ruined clothes and wince at the dried blood flaking onto the pristine tiles. Hot water hits me like salvation, washing away the blood and terror.

But not the memory of Ruslan's hand covering my mouth, the weight of his presence behind me as a dead man slumped at my feet, or the warmth that surged through my body when I placed my hand in his.

My fingers tremble beneath the spray.

"You're safe," I whisper to myself, the words nearly lost beneath the sound of running water. "You're okay."

But for how long?

I close my eyes, letting water stream down my face as I think about the absurdity and insanity of everything I witnessed in the last twenty-four hours.

But do you know what the most terrifying thing is?

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