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and are faced with yet another fork in the path, my father grabs my arm and pulls me back against the wall. “Bella, we have to go.”

“We already discussed this,” I say, leaving no room for interpretation. “You can leave if you want, but I’m going to find Yuri.”

He grits his teeth and squeezes my arm harder. “Every second we spend down here is a risk. You just met this man a few days ago. He’s a criminal who has devoted his life to this level of danger. He earned this kind of violent end for himself, but you haven’t. You are good. Are you really willing to die for someone like him?”

The question is meant to wake me up, to show me the foolishness of my actions, but instead, it feels like a revelation.

Yes, I just met Yuri a few days ago. And yes, our relationship has been complicated. But in the last few days, he has helped me realize how strong I am, how capable I am. Not only that, but he has been vulnerable with me, allowing me to see the softer sides of him, and I like what I’ve seen. Yuri Petrov is unlike any man I’ve ever met before, and I’m not going to let him die in a basement beneath a dentist’s office at the hands of his backstabbing father. Not a chance.

I wrench my arm from my father’s grip and stand tall, chin lifted high. “Yes, I am. He would die for me in a heartbeat, and I’m glad to do the same for him.”

My father’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “Bella, please. Come with me.”

I touch my father’s stubbled cheek for a second and then let my hand fall. “I won’t blame you if you leave. But if you’re going to keep going with me, then you have to respect my choice. I’m not going to have this conversation again.”

My dad looks at me like he doesn’t recognize me. He steps back, looks me up and down quickly, and then nods. “I’m not leaving you, but you should know, I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” I say, smiling up at him, wondering if it’s the last time I’ll ever get to do it.

Before I can dwell too long on the emotional moment, a muffled shout and pounding footsteps echo from the right side of the hallway. I look up at my father, eyes wide, and then turn and sprint in the direction of the noise. I hear my father keeping pace behind me, but all I can focus on is the grunting and thumping growing louder with every step. There’s a fight going on, and I know it’s Yuri.

A door on the left side of the hallway is ajar, and through it, I can see several men in black shirts like uniforms standing in a semicircle, jostling from one foot to another, fists up and ready. I shift to the left and see who they’re facing—Yuri. He’s shirtless and bloodied, bruises blooming across his arms and chest like paint dripped into a cup of clear water.

“Take him down,” one of The Society men yells from the sidelines. “The boss said we could leave once he was taken care of.”

“Easier said than done,” a bald man facing Yuri says. His lip is swollen, a bruise forming around his left eye, and I can see blood dripping from his knuckles. Apparently, Yuri is putting up a good fight.

“There are too many of them.” My father’s harsh whisper makes me jump, and I step away from the door and lean against the wall.

“But I have a gun,” I say, waving the gun between us. “I can take them down before they know what hit them.”

My father shakes his head. “They might have guns, too.”

I shrug. “They might.”

“Bella,” he moans. “Please. Don’t make me watch you get killed. Don’t make that be the last thing I see. Give me the gun, and I’ll go in there while you wait out here. Please.”

I appreciate the sincerity of his offer, but not what it implies—that I’m weak and helpless, that I need to be taken care of. I grip the gun even tighter and shake my head. “No. I’m going in there. Besides, I’m the only one between the two of us who has any experience firing a weapon.”

He narrows his eyes. “When have you fired a gun?”

“Matt showed me.”

“My secret security?” he asks, appalled.

I smirk. “I was curious, so he took me to the firing range.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s so fired.”

“If we get out of here, you might want to give him a raise,” I suggest, elbowing him in the stomach. Then I take a deep breath. “You ready?”

He leans around, peeking through the doorway. “You fire at the three men fighting Yuri, and I’ll go for the two men watching on the right.”

It’s a weak plan, but better than walking in guns blazing. So, I nod, and then bob my head once, twice, three times. As soon as I kick the door in, I aim and fire at the bald man. The shot hits him in the chest before he can even shout in surprise, and he drops like the strings holding him up were cut.

Yuri snaps his attention to the door, and the moment he sees me, his flagging energy seems to rebound. He stands taller and throws two quick jabs at a dark-haired man wearing a chain. The man stumbles backwards, clutching his jaw, and I shoot him in the stomach. Blood leaks across his gray shirt, and when he falls to his knees, Yuri kicks him in the face.

Now that he’s fighting one-on-one, I know Yuri can handle himself, so I turn my attention to where my dad is flailing his limbs to fight off two Society members in the corner. They are landing hits occasionally, but my dad, who no one would describe as an athlete, is basically gyrating, making it difficult

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