Hunted By The Bratva Beast: A Bratva Stalker/Captive Romance, Jagger Cole [good books to read for 12 year olds .txt] 📗

He laughs, and then merely shrugs with a grin.

“It’s not about that though, Viktor. I’m so happy you found her, honestly. I just…”

“You needed your own space. I know, and I understand it.” He turns to grin at me. “Can’t live in your big brother’s house forever.”

“In that house? If I was quiet enough, I could, and you’d never even know it.”

He chuckles. “And the new place?”

“Perfect.”

Viktor’s brow wrinkles. “You know I’m happy to get you any place in the city, Nina.”

“And you know I like to pay my own way,” I shrug. “Viktor, you pay me an obscene amount of money to do my job anyways—”

“Because you’re damn good at it,” he grunts.

“Well, it’s more than enough to afford the place I found.”

Viktor, of course, wanted to buy me a palace of a penthouse to live in when I moved out. But I didn’t want a handout. And it’s not like I’m slumming it, either. My new, quite elegant apartment is still in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Chicago, with views of the lake, a huge kitchen, and balcony. Honestly, it suits me just fine.

“You at least could have let me pay the difference for a place with more security than two rent-a-cops at the front door.”

“Oh, I think I’m perfectly safe. Considering the two five-man security teams you have on rotation around the building, don’t you?”

Viktor smirks and raises a brow. “Caught that, huh?”

“On day one.”

He chuckles. “Can’t get shit past you, can I?”

“Well, I learned from the best,” I grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

“I heard Fiona and Zoey finally managed to get you and Nikolai out together.”

“Oh, it was very romantic. We got Starbucks, to go.”

He smirks. “And?”

I roll my eyes. “Definitely not. And the feeling is very mutual.”

“Well, okay then.”

I laugh. “Viktor, you don’t have to pretend you aren’t glad I’m not dating one of your underlings.”

He snorts. “Hey, I just want my sister to be happy.”

I smile as we both turn to look out over the city lights. “How could I not be? I’m here, I’ve got a good life, I’ve got my big brother who was smart enough to find himself a great woman like Fiona…” I shrug. “Business is good, we’ve got peace treaties with just about every other family and outfit in the city.”

Viktor chuckles. “So that’s a yes on being happy?”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s a yes.”

Mostly, at least.

“Good. Alright, I’m going in for a bite to eat. Coming?”

I shake my head. “In a little bit. I’m fine for now.”

“Hey, don’t complain to me if the raw bar is picked clean by the time you get your ass in there.”

I laugh as my brother downs his champagne and heads inside. I sip mine and gaze out at the way the lights of Chicago glitter off the rippled surface of the lake. I am happy, I think to myself. Or at least, as happy as someone with my past gets.

I’m turning to go inside when one of the glass doors from the garden into the penthouse suddenly splinters into a million glittering shards. I blink in shock. But when the bottle of champagne sitting on ice on the bar suddenly explodes, I’m not in shock anymore.

Suddenly, the shooting really starts.

Screams erupt from the party as automatic fire begins to pepper the whole garden. My mind clicks on instinct, and I dive behind a catering table as bullets shatter the glass doors and windows. My pulse thuds in my ears as I fix my askew glasses and reach into my purse and pull out the .45.

I can hear men—Kashenko men—yelling in Russian and English. I poke my head over the table and do a quick scan—just in time to see three Bratva soldiers fall in a spray of bullets. My jaw tenses as I scan the night. The shots are coming from the roof opposite Lev and Zoey’s place, but I can’t see anything.

I whirl, popping up and running headlong until I can duck behind one of the vine-covered walls of the penthouse itself. Bullets crack in rapid fire against the table I was just hiding behind. I glance out again, and I feel my heart clench when I see Nikolai groan and drop behind a garden wall. His white dress shirt is soaked with blood down one arm.

I take a breath. I ready myself to run to help him. But then suddenly, the arm slips around my neck and pulls me tight. I gasp, and my heart leaps into my throat. I can feel the massively muscled chest at my back, and the arm like steel tight around me.

And suddenly, I feel his breath against my ear.

“You’re mine, little one.”

His voice is like vodka and metal. It’s like old wood and smoke, rasping dangerously in my ear. I hiss, twisting against his grip. But he’s so fucking strong. And he feels like a giant behind me. With a final grunt, I jab both elbows back and stomp down hard on his foot. He barely flinches, but it’s enough for me to twist and whirl in his grip.

I whip around. I gasp sharply as my heart skips and my breath leaves my body. I look up into a stunningly handsome face, and two piercing, haunting blue eyes burning right into mine.

He blinks, and suddenly, his grip falters. He stares at me with a mix of shock, horror, and… I frown. And recognition. He blinks, like he’s not sure he’s actually seeing me, and his powerful, chiseled jaw grinds tight.

“You…”

I never would have made it to the age of ten without knowing how to think quickly in the face of danger. And I’ve got a gun in my hand.

I don’t linger. I don’t dwell on how shockingly good looking my attacker is, or on the look on his face. I bring the gun up in my hand, I press it to his chest, and I pull the trigger.

The gun jolts hard, the shockwave twisting up my arm and through my whole body.