Sergei motions to me. “We need to move him STAT. He needs proper treatment.”
“Do it; whatever he needs.”
Vlad glances toward me. “You kill that bastard?” he asks.
“Piotr’s gone,” I confirm grimly. “He won’t hurt your family again.”
He exhales, pain flickering across his face. “Good.”
Kat kisses Vlad’s forehead before the medics wheel the stretcher into the elevator. Kat moves to follow, but I catch her arm.
She stiffens. “I want to go with him.”
“You’ll see him soon,” I say softly, “but we need to gather ourselves first, Kat. Then we’ll meet him.”
Nikolai appears, wiping blood from his brow. “We’re still scanning the place. No more hostiles found. Piotr’s men are either dead or gone.” His gaze dips, noting Kat’s tear- and blood-streaked face. “Vlad’s going to be okay,” he adds, more gently. “One of my men had already called the paramedics when you ordered him taken to the hospital. They were here by the time we got him downstairs. They wanted to stabilize him before transporting him.
“Boss, we can wrap things up. You and your family should get out of here, go to a nice hotel or something.”
Kat nods, relief and sorrow colliding in her expression. “Yes, please.”
I slip an arm around her. “Piotr’s body is in the office,” I say quietly to Nikolai. “Bury it in an unmarked grave. He doesn’t deserve anything more.”
Kat tenses beside me but she doesn’t protest. She’s mourning the brother she once knew, not the monster he’d become. Nikolai bows his head, stepping away to handle it.
We grab Camille and Ana and take the elevator downstairs. A swirl of night air greets us when we step outside. The courtyard is lit by the headlights of several black SUVs, our personal medics milling around with first-aid kits, taking care of any injuries, Nikolai’s team mans the perimeter, weapons still at the ready.
No police—they know better than to interfere in Bratva business.
Camille stands to one side, holding Ana in her arms. My child gazes at us, eyes puffy, face streaked with tears and exhaustion. My heart clenches. Damn! I wish she didn’t have to witness any of this. I vow to myself that, going forward, she never will again.
Kat approaches them, wrapping them both in a hug. Camille glances at me. “What about Vlad?”
“He’s on his way to the hospital,” I say. “We’ll join him soon.”
Kat cups Ana’s cheek, smoothing away tears. “You okay, baby?”
Ana nods weakly. “Tired,” she murmurs.
Kat gently kisses her temple. “We’ll get you somewhere you can sleep, sweet girl. It’s all over now.”
I slip my hand on Kat’s shoulder. “We should get going.”
She gives a longing glance at the building before letting me guide her toward one of the waiting vehicles. I help her get Ana settled and buckled in on her lap in the back seat.
Camille climbs in next to them, wrapping her arm around them protectively. I slide into the passenger seat, nodding at the driver—one of Nikolai’s men.
“Go,” I instruct, voice rough with fatigue.
He drops it into drive. As we pull away from the battered remains of the building, I catch a glimpse of bodies being dragged out, Piotr’s among them, presumably. A wave of heaviness presses on my chest. He was family to Kat and Vlad, once a friend to me, but he shattered those bonds. I had no choice.
Kat’s humming brings me back. She kisses Ana’s hair as Camille strokes her arm. Leaning back in the seat, I release a heavy sigh. We’re alive. Vlad’s alive. The threat is gone. Now we just have to piece our lives back together.
Ana exhales her own sigh as she drifts off. I rest my head against the seat, letting my eyes close for a moment. My thoughts swirl with images of bullet-riddled halls, Vlad bleeding out, Piotr’s final glare before I fired. My eyes pop open as I cling to a single truth—we’re alive.
Whatever tomorrow holds—Vlad’s recovery, the city’s reaction, the burial of a brother who died a traitor—we’ll endure it. Kat’s hand reaches out for mine. I squeeze it gently, letting the warmth of her grip steady me. We’re together, and we’re free of Piotr’s dark ambitions.
We’re safe.