Page 151 of Vendetta Crown

And that's when I see it between the rows of seats.

The knife.

I lunge into the row of seats. My fingers scrabble desperately across the sticky theater carpet while my babies kick frantically inside of me.

My hand closes around the cold metal handle just as a primal roar fills the darkness behind me.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!"

I twist my body, knife clutched in my grip.

Kristofer looms above me, face contorted with hatred, the fire extinguisher raised high over his head. Time slows to a crawl as I watch him bring it down in a vicious arc aimed directly at my skull.

39

RUSLAN

The flashof Aurora's blonde hair disappears through the theater doors with Kristofer in hot pursuit.

I try to follow, but a stream of bullets stops me in my tracks and I'm forced to duck down.

"Aurora!" My throat burns with her name as I return fire, dropping one of Semyon's men.

Two more rush forward, pinning me in place with gunfire.

I try to break cover but a hail of bullets forces me back. Every second she's alone with Kristofer twists my gut like a knife.

I duck behind the concrete barrier as bullets chip away at the edges, narrowly missing my head. The acrid smell of gunpowder mingles with the metallic tang of blood in the air. My ears ring from the constant barrage of gunfire, but I can still make out Semyon's voice cutting through the chaos.

"Your time is up, Ruslan!" Semyon shouts from behind his cover. "You, your pregnant whore, and everyone else here will all be dead soon!"

I check my magazine.

Three rounds left.

Fuck.

The weight of Aurora's life presses down on me more heavily than any bullet could.

I promised to keep her safe. I promised we'd face this together. But right now, with Semyon's men advancing and my ammunition dwindling, those promises feel like they're slipping through my fingers.

"How did it feel?" I roar back, shifting to get a better angle. "How did it feel sending your own niece to her death? Having that psycho slice her up while you watched?"

Semyon's laugh echoes across the parking lot. "Tamara was disposable! Just like your brother, just like your nephew?—"

I spot one of his men trying to flank our position. I exhale slowly, centering my aim, and squeeze the trigger. The man drops with a clean shot to the chest. Two bullets left.

"You're running out of men, Semyon," I taunt, though my confidence is pure fiction. I scan the area, desperate for any sign of Artyom or my backup. Nothing.

"And you're running out of time," Semyon calls back. "Only a matter of time before your wife is dead! Like old times, eh, Ruslan? Some history is worth repeating!"

The mention of Aurora makes my blood boil. I will not lose her like I lost Leslie. Never again.

"The only history repeating today is another Mikonov failure," I snarl, ejecting my nearly empty magazine and checking my pocket for a spare. Nothing. "You couldn't beat us twenty years ago, and you won't beat us now."

I hear Semyon barking orders, repositioning his men. I'm pinned down, nearly out of ammunition, and alone against what sounds like at least five attackers.

Just then, the sound of chaos rises up again. Fresh gunfire erupts from somewhere behind Semyon's position.

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