Page 139 of Bratva Bidder
Konstantin slides in next to me, gripping Levin by the arm. “We’re getting you out of here,” he says roughly. “Now. Can you walk?”
“I—I don’t know…” Levin stammers, eyes wild. “I think…someone’s trying to kill me.”
“You’re not wrong,” Konstantin mutters. “But you’re coming with us.”
He hauls Levin to his feet and pushes him gently toward me. I loop an arm around his waist, supporting his weight, guiding him out from behind the crates. He’s shaking so badly I’m afraid he’ll collapse, but somehow he keeps moving, stumbling beside me like a newborn deer.
We round a corner and are immediately met by another figure—one of Dmitry’s men.
I shove Levin behind me as I raise my weapon. But I don’t need to fire—Konstantin moves faster. A single shot drops the man before he can lift his gun.
“Keep moving!” Konstantin barks.
We push forward again, this time hugging the inner walls, avoiding the larger open spaces of the warehouse. At one point, I look down and see blood on the floor—not ours, not Levin’s, but fresh and sticky.
Almost there. Just a little farther.
Konstantin throws open a side door, the emergency exit clanging against the brick. A streak of sunlight slashes across the ground outside—the rear lot, still untouched by the chaos inside. A black SUV is parked there, engine running. Lev stands beside it, waving urgently.
Levin sees him and chokes out a sob of relief.
“Go!” Konstantin urges.
I push Levin toward the car. He collapses into Lev’s arms, who quickly bundles him into the back seat.
“He’s safe,” Lev confirms, eyes narrowing as he glances back toward the warehouse. “But you two?—”
A low rumble interrupts him. The explosion rips through the building behind us, blasting heat and fire into the sky. Konstantin and I hit the ground hard, shielding our heads as debris showers down.
30
NADYA
The world is white noise.Ringing in my ears, smoke in my lungs, grit in my mouth.
I push myself up from the gravel, coughing, hands stinging as I brace against the ground. The warehouse is gone. Not damaged—obliterated. Twisted steel, fractured walls, a collapsing roof that’s still spitting smoke and ash into the air like a dying dragon. Fire crackles from inside, swallowing what’s left.
Konstantin is already on his feet, just a few feet ahead, staring at the wreckage like he’s seeing ghosts. His face is gray with dust, a long streak of blood down his cheek. I can’t tell if it’s his or someone else’s.
“Oh my god…” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond.
Bits of debris are still raining down—shards of wood, scorched metal, a half-melted chair leg that lands near my foot. The acrid stench of burning insulation curls in the air.
“Konstantin,” I say, louder this time.
He blinks, but doesn’t turn.
“I don’t know how many men were still inside,” he says, his voice flat. Hollow. “I sent two to the roof. Four were patrolling the perimeter.”
Lev’s SUV is parked a safe distance away, engine running but untouched. Levin is inside, his face pale against the window, hands still trembling. I told him not to move, that we’d come back. We did. But I don’t think he even sees us.
I step closer to Konstantin, careful not to touch him. “Konstantin…”
He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps staring at the wreckage. “Misha was there. Kiril. Probably Luka too.” His throat works like he’s swallowing glass.
I don’t know what to say. There’s no point telling him it’s not his fault. He’ll carry it anyway, like every other weight he’s shouldered alone.
