Page 36 of Brutal Union
My teeth grind together as I raise my hands above my head. Every muscle in my body coils like wire, every instinct screaming to snap his neck clean in two.
I study him through narrowed eyes.
His face looks vaguely familiar like we frequent the same dark alleys. The man is tall, lean, his movements fluid with a kind of grace that speaks of decades of training. Not a single wasted breath. His black hair is cropped close to his skull, a sharp undercut running into a mess of longer strands swept back. Hisclothes are all matte black—form-fitting tactical gear, no excess, no nonsense.
His gaze flicks over me once before landing on Nadia. A flash of amusement crosses his face.
“You are one lucky ???,” he drawls to her, cocking his head as if inspecting a rare specimen through a glass case. “This is my third time trying to kill you, and just when I know you’re dead this asshole shows up.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” My voice snaps out like a gunshot. ???means crazy bitch in Korean, one of the few I’ve picked up over the years, along with my fan favorite ???,which means do you want to die.“If you like your life, speak to her with respect.”
Bhon raises an eyebrow slowly, his lips twitching with a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Protective, and he speaks Korean.” He keeps the gun trained on me, utterly unshaken. “If you were both not about to die, I would say he’s a keeper.”
“I thought you just said she’s hard to kill. I promise you with me around it’ll be fucking impossible.” I snarl.
“You always this territorial? Or is it just her that makes you stupid?” The man snorts.
“Try me,” I growl, stepping slightly in front of Nadia’s body. “And you’ll find out exactly how stupid I am.”
The smile fades just a little from his face. His eyes sharpen, as he cocks the gun to the side like he is seconds from blowing my head off, but he’d have to chop me up into pieces and spread meacross all seven continents for me not to hurt him if he hurts my Nadia.
Behind me, I feel Nadia shift—just the smallest movement, her fingers tightening faintly in the fabric of my jeans. Her presence, even now, is gravity.
“Sho…” she croaks, voice shredded.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper back. Then louder, never breaking eye contact with Bhon, “Who sent you? I can make it worth your while not to kill us.”
The man tilts his head like he’s watching a deer try to bargain with the hunter. The smirk that plays at the corner of his mouth is small—just a twitch—but it cuts deeper than a laugh ever could.
“Kill you?” he echoes, voice smooth as glass and twice as cold. “That’s a little dramatic, even for you,Shadow.”
“You know me?”
“Of course, I know the heir to the Yakuza,” He takes a lazy step forward. “Especially since he is wanted dead or alive for a billion yen.”
“You want a billion yen?” I snort. “I could have that in your account in the next hour.”
“You think I show up just to pull a trigger, and get a pay out?” he continues. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t be talking. And she—”his eyes flick to Nadia, still slumped and bleeding against the rumble, “—would’ve been a memory an hour ago.”
“Then talk,” I growl, jaw tight, every nerve in my body pulled taut like a loaded chamber. “Because I’m one second from deciding you’re lying.”
He snorts, steps just close enough for the steel toe of his boot to crunch glass between us.
“I’m not here to kill you,” he says again, slower this time. His eyes narrow slightly. “I’m here to clean up the fucking mess you two made.”
I stiffen. “Meaning?”
The man’s lips curl into something resembling a smile—but there’s no warmth behind it. Just teeth. “The Yakuza is pissed, Miss Petrov.”
Behind me, Nadia stirs. I hear the way her breath hitches through her clenched teeth. She grits out a sound between a gasp and a growl, and her fingers press into the wall behind her. Slowly, agonizingly, she begins to rise. Her legs tremble beneath her, the burn from her cauterized wound beats a bright red against her pale skin.
“Pissed about what?” she rasps, her voice rough but steel-lined, her body swaying slightly even as she forces her spine straight.
The man clicks his tongue against his teeth, tilting his head slightly, like he’s impressed despite himself.
“We got word that the true leader of the Bratva does not approve of the deal you made,” he says smoothly, like he’s reciting something already rehearsed. “And the Yakuza… they don’t like to be taken for fools.”
