Page 8 of A Bride for the Bratva Boss
The knife sinks deep and the metal cracks bone. There’s a gasp and then a wet gurgle, sick and final.
The grip on my hair releases and I spin around to see the man fall to the ground. Life-less eyes stare up at nothing.
Blood weeping from his neck floods the asphalt.
My fingers loosen and the knife thuds down, bouncing again before lying still.
I’m numb, hands shaking, vision tunneling. I feel myself tilt, knees buckling. The world contracts to Danyl’s arms, strong and unwavering.
He catches me before my knees make impact with the asphalt, his breath hot on my brow. “Shh,” he whispers. “Don’t look.”
I’m sobbing. I can’t stop. “Did I kill him?” My voice cracks.
“You did what you had to do,” Danyl says. His hands cradle my cheeks. “Look at me. Not him.”
I do. It’s safer. But tears stream down my face.
Danyl leans me up against the car and then calmly crouches by the attacker. He checks the pulse and then brushes his palm across the face to lower the man’s eyelids over his empty stare. Danyl’s face is blank, except for a tick in his jaw.
I grip the hood of the car to stop myself from swaying. Sick dread rolls in my stomach and I’m torn between shock and guilt.
Do I hear sirens? Or is my conscience making up phantom noise? I look around, but no flashing lights are coming our way.
Danyl takes out his phone and taps a quick message. As he puts the device back in his pocket, he scans the lot with military precision. He’s says something but I can’t make sense of the words. Something about there being no cameras. Which is true, there are security cameras in the lot where the customers park, but not back here by the dumpsters.
He steps in front of me, blocking the view of the dead man. Gripping my shoulders, he shakes me a little. “Liza, look at me.”
Blinking, I stare into his blue eyes. For a moment, I imagine compassion flickers in their depth, but it’s gone so fast I can’t be sure. I hold up my hands and stare at the blood staining my fingers. The same phrase repeats on a loop in my mind.I killed him. I’m a murderer.
Danyl shakes me again and my gaze snap back to his. “Listen to me. This was self-defense, but the police in this town are not impartial. Especially if this man was connected.”
I stare at him. “What?”
He sighs. “The police won’t care you panicked. They’ll see the blood. They’ll ask who you belong to.”
“I don’t belong?—”
He interrupts. “That man’s friends will come looking for his killer. They might say you started it.”
“But I…I didn’t…” I can’t finish the sentences. My mind fills with white noise.
He wipes a tear off my cheek I didn’t know was falling. “You’re not alone. I’ll help you.”
I stare at him and despite the warmth I hear in his voice, cold leeches deep into my bones. Forget the plans I had about becoming a veterinarian assistant. I’m going to prison.
At least I won’t have to worry about food and rent. I swallow the hysterical laughter rising in my throat.
Danyl glances at the man’s car and the dead body sprawled beside it.
I grip Danyl’s arms as the world spins faster and faster out of my control.
His piercing blue gaze focuses on me again. “There is one way,” he says calmly. “Marry me. Tonight.”
The manic laughter I’ve tried to keep down bubbles up and echoes through the empty lot. “I’m sorry,” I say when I catch my breath. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”
He just watches me calmly. “A husband can’t testify against his wife. And a wife gets Bratva protection.” He cups my face, his thumb rough over my trembling jaw.
I want to lean into the heat of his palm, but force my head to not move. “I can’t marry you. I don’t know you.” The word “Bratva” is somewhat familiar, but my fragmented mind can’t focus enough to figure out what it means.
