Page 19 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
“Is she ready? I know how hard it was with Zoe,” he says eventually. “But you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”
“I have.”
There’s no point lying. He knows me too well.
“I need you to be here tomorrow,” I add. “Your wife is close to Jennie. She’ll want to be around her.”
Lukin exhales softly. “Tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow.”
Just then, my door creaks open, and Zalar steps in, face unreadable.
He jerks his chin once.
Problem.
“What is it, Zalar?” I snap.
“The warehouse,” he says, low and urgent. “The one on Pier 19. It’s under attack.”
My eyes sharpen. “From who?”
“The Markovic side. The spy we caught wasn’t solo. He was working with them. We just intercepted chatter—their crew hit two satellite depots already. The main batch of ammo arrives in less than two hours.”
Lukin curses under his breath on the line. “You have a shipment landing tonight? Why the hell wasn’t I told?”
“Because I didn’t think I needed you to hold my hand,” I snap.
I’m already moving. I grab the jacket I’d tossed over the chair earlier, checking the clip in my holster without missing a beat.
Lukin exhales hard. “Fucking Markovic, man. He never stops.”
“After tonight, he will.” I charge down the stairs, already spoiling for a fight.
“Adrian?”
“I’ll handle it,” I growl at Lukin. “Go attend to the wife and kid.”
“Adrian?” He calls again, in the tone that lets me know he’s fucking serious.
“What?”
“Don’t die before your wedding.”
I hang up without answering.
Zalar falls into step beside me as we head for the garage. My blood is already humming, my vision narrowing with razor-sharp focus.
The Markovics want to play games?
Good.
I’m in the mood to kill something.
“Call the ground teams,” I tell Zalar. “We’re going to the pier. If they’re still there by the time we arrive—”
“They won’t be,” he mutters. “But the bodies will.”
