Page 149 of Desperate Crimes
Her golden hair pulled back in a sleek braid.
Sweat gleaming on her temple.
And those big brown eyes?Wide.Wild.Locking onto mine like a homing beacon.
My heart lurches.
No.Mysoullurches.
“Leanna,” I whisper—choked.Staggered.“Princess…”
Behind her, blood-streaked and battle-worn, come our fathers—Adrik Volkov and Nico Fury.
They move like twin tornadoes, rage and dirt and death clinging to their tailored shirts like second skins.
My father’s eyes meet mine.
He takes in my appearance, cataloging my injuries, I’m sure.Then he dips his chin, slow and deliberate.
Adrik does the same, his lips curled into a snarl that promises vengeance.
But all I can see isher.
Shecame for me.
Shefucking came for me.
A shout from the side—one of the remaining men trying to sneak away.
Leanna doesn’t hesitate.
She shifts, pivots, andfires.
One shot.
Center mass.
“Don’t you fucking move!” she yells, voice fierce and cracking with emotion.
Jesus Christ.
That’s-that’s hot.
But also terrifying.
She’s shaking.
But she’s steady.
A warrior Princess dressed in tactical gear and wrapped up in wrath.
“You heard her,” I say, moving to her side like I’m being pulled by a force older than time itself.
I take the rifle from her trembling hands, kiss the inside of her wrist, and turn back to the bastard kneeling in front of me.
“Tell your men to stand down,” I growl.
I aim the pistol at his forehead, blood, sweat, and pure fucking rage covering every inch of me.
