Page 95 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

Before I can respond, the rear window shatters. Everybody ducks. The car comes to a screeching halt—not that we were moving very quickly to begin with. I pop the Kia into park and pull out my weapon, aiming for the driver’s side of the unmarked vehicle.

We’re fucking trapped like sitting ducks. Cars flank either side of us like sardines. Gray clouds clot the sky, blocking out the sun. A drizzle dusts the cars around us. I smell the rain in the air, the moisture thickening in the car because of the open window.

I spot a flash of silver and shout, “Down!”

Liya bends as far forward as possible as I do the same. Glass rains around us as the upholstery shreds under the heavy gunfire. As soon as the gun hiccups, I sit back up and start shooting again. The driver’s side door pops open. I follow the motion until I see just a flash of skin.

And then I unleash hell.

The driver slumps back into his seat. As the passenger door flies open, a hand falls on my shoulder. Kiril comes into view. He’s not blocking my path, but he’s not giving me room either.

Blood smears his cheek. He’s paler than ever, sweat slicking his features with sickness. “Give me the gun, Pavel Sergeyevich.”

I hesitate.

I haven’t fumbled like this since I was sixteen.

Gunfire erupts and causes me to yank Kiril down. I’m splayed over the center console with Zoya at my back and Liya near my legs. One of them is screaming. Or both. It’s hard to tell.

Kiril tries to grab the gun.

I yank it back while reaching for the cartridge in my pocket. “There must be another way.”

“Haven’t you forgotten?” Kiril holds up his palm to reveal the tattoo I forced on him.Smerts—death. “I’m already dead.”

Blood trickles around his fingers. I see the pools of crimson on his shirt where his wounds have opened. He’s not even bothering to cover them.

He’s made his choice.

He reaches for the gun again. “Let me die with some honor.”

Another shot rings out above us. At this point, the roof is disintegrating under the hail of bullets. We have some coverage with the trunk, but it won’t last much longer. I know those cops are closing in.

I do the only thing I can think of in that moment.

I embrace Kiril.

Hot blood soaks through my shirt. He clings to me while I clutch the back of his shirt.

“Will you forgive me, Kiril Vladimirovich?” I ask him.

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“There must besomethingI can do.”

He pulls back and grabs the gun. “Keep my daughter safe. Promise me that.”

“I will.”

The gunfire pauses. As Kiril kicks the door open, Zoya lifts her head. She shrieks and tries to lunge over me to stop her father.

“Daddy! No!”

“Zoyechka.” Kiril turns to her, his eyes wet and brimming. “I wish I’d been a better father. But I have to go now.” His eyes flash with affection. “Now, be brave andrun.”

Pandemonium explodes the moment Kiril opens fire. I snatch Liya by the waist and yank her in the opposite direction as Zoya follows from the car. The three of us hit the pavement and crawl on our hands and knees toward the front of the car on our right. Once we’re clear, we stand and rush into the crowd with the rest of the people that are fleeing the scene.

To anyone else, we almost look like innocent bystanders.

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