Forced Mafia Bride (Yezhov Bratva #2)

Chapter 14 – Nikolai

Five Days Later

Ronan didn’t care much for his sister; that was understood. But he’d been publicly humiliated in his own territory. Knowing him as well as I did, that should have been enough to spark an irritation that would propel him to come after me. He never really allowed sleeping dogs to lie, so it was surprising that the past weeks had been met with nothing more than cold silence from his end.

Aiden said he’d refused to discuss the incident at the church and kept mute since. But I knew the Irish mutt probably better than anyone did. Years ago, I’d spent months studying the asshole. He was not going to let it go. And if Aiden was unaware of his plans, it meant he secretly plotted to take me out.

I tapped my steering wheel and adjusted the rearview mirror. The flash of a Mercedes bumper reflected through the mirror, and a smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Surprise, surprise. It was almost as if I had manifested the situation and was now living it. I’d been driving for hours already, completely bored. Finally, something lively.

A rush of adrenaline bolted through my veins, and I floored the gas. The Mercedes followed, and I noticed the tinted windows and the gleam of the chrome wheels. Then, it swerved into the next lane, pulling up alongside me. The windows rolled down, and I glanced over to see a masked face staring right back, a gun pointed directly at me.

I smiled. My instincts kicked in, and I floored the Tesla, grinning when the Mercedes kept up the pace. Whoever the driver was made quite the impression, holding his ground. We weaved in and out of traffic, and the speedometer climbed higher and higher. I heard the roar of the engines, the screech of tires, and the rattle of gunfire bouncing off the steel.

The driver was firing at my car.

Bullets whizzed past my head, shattering the side window. I ducked and chuckled as I fought to maintain control. I took a sharp turn. The tires screeched in protest, but the Mercedes driver wasn’t giving up easily.

He fired again and, this time, had a bit of luck on his side.

A bullet hit my front tire, sending my car careening out of control. I fought to steady the wheel, but it was too late. The tire blew, and my car skidded onto the shoulder, sending up a cloud of smoke and dust.

Swiftly, I reached for my gun and phone tucked away in the glove compartment and leaped from the car. I wasn’t backing down without a fight. I returned fire, my bullets shattering the Mercedes’ windshield. The driver swerved momentarily, losing control.

That was when I saw my chance. I aimed carefully, squeezing off a shot that hit the driver’s arm. His grip on the wheel faltered, and the Mercedes careened, crashing into a guardrail. But the driver didn’t slip out as I expected him to; he floored the gas and sped as quickly as the car could take him.

I kept shooting, frustration building up. I’d recognize the lazy assassination attempt anywhere— Ronan’s.

****

I’d put a call through to have one of my men pick me up at the crash site, and Avian’s response was quick. He pulled into the compound, the gates sliding open with a soft creak. As I stepped out of the car, Avian moved to park the car elsewhere, and I noticed a figure waiting for me at the front of the house. Anatoly.

He was leaning against the pillar, his eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression that I understood too well. “Who attacked you?”

“Ronan.” I walked past him, and he pushed off the pillar.

“Ronan?”

“Let’s go inside.” I gestured toward the door, and his movements were fluid when he followed me.

I led him to the living room, motioning for him to take a seat. I occupied the seat across from him with a groan and ignored the pounding headache when I waved for a cigarette. He plucked out a cigar stick from the box on the table and offered a lighter. I struck, shutting my eyes after the butt glowed red.

“I’ve encountered no other person as lousy as he is, and there’s really no other person I can think of at the moment. So, yes, I’m sure he was the one behind the attack. The driver was pretty good, though.”

“I don’t think your near-death experience is anything to laugh over, Niko.”

I scoffed, taking a long drag from the stick and exhaling white puffy clouds through my nostrils. “Near-death? Please. You know how many times I’ve had fucking death scares? I stopped counting last year.” I unbuttoned my jacket. “Ronan is not going to be the death of me; I assure you.”

His unimpressed expression meant he wasn’t going to drop it. “Still....”

“Anatoly.” I glared from over the glowing cigar butt.

Before he could stubbornly press on, Avian rushed into the house, a deep frown making lines at the sides of his mouth. “Boss, I’ve just been informed that Miss Gallagher is not in the house.”

The headache stopped pounding, and instead, a rush of adrenaline, along with a wave of fury, took its place.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you mean Rosalyn is not in the house? Where the fuck is she then?” Before the young man responded, I fired a scowl at Anatoly. “Call Hannah.”

Anatoly brought out his phone, and Avian planted himself like a stick at the center of the room. I tried to think. Was it possible that Ronan had her taken away? Or did she find a means to escape? I checked the security footage from the CCTV in her room. The last video was of her leaving the room for breakfast.

And it plays on a fucking loop.

“Hannah’s number is not available.”

I eyed the big man holding his phone like a betrayed lover. “Did you try again?”

“I did.”

“Hm.” I leaned back on the couch, forcing my rage to simmer down while I brooded on alternative methods for the situation with a logical approach. She definitely messed with the system and had Hannah’s help doing it.

“Should we search for her?” Anatoly offered, but I held up a hand, although I wasn’t certain which her he referred to.

“No.”

Avian tried not to appear stunned. “We can assemble a team—”

“You all are forbidden to search for her. Leave her. Just keep your eyes and ears open. Monitor all the city exits: land routes, sea routes, air routes, private terminals, public terminals…every fucking route. Just in case she tries to leave the city. But that’s all. When the time is right, I will get a hold of her.”

As long as she remained in L. A., it was fine. I knew what this was—her little game of cat and mouse.

I grinned.

Fine.

I was going to play, but the next time I laid my eyes or hands on her, I promised to leave the shadows and drag her back mercilessly to the hell she escaped from. Only this time, it would be much worse after I reminded her who she belonged to.