Till Death Saves Me (Forced Mafia Marriages)

13. Ivan

13

IVAN

I storm into Nikolai's office, my jaw clenched so tight I can feel a vein pulsing in my temple. Lev's already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his eyes following me as I stride in.

"Someone tried to take Virginia," I spit out, not bothering with pleasantries. "In our territory. In broad fucking daylight."

Nikolai's eyes narrow, his fingers steepling under his chin. "Tell me everything."

I launch into a detailed account, my words clipped and precise. "She was shopping on Fifth Avenue. One of our guys spotted a tail. By the time I got there, the fucker was making his move." My fists clench at the memory. "I neutralized the threat, but it was too close."

"Who?" Nikolai's voice is deceptively calm, but I can see the storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Dmitry took the guy to one of our warehouses," I growl. "I plan to have a long chat with him."

Lev pushes off the wall, his posture tense. "I'll help."

Nikolai nods slowly, his expression darkening with each passing second. The silence in the room is thick, charged with unspoken violence.

"This can't go unanswered," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "They need to understand what happens when they touch what's ours."

Nikolai's eyes meet mine, cold and calculating. After a moment, he gives a single, sharp nod. "Send a message, Ivan. Make it loud."

A grim smile tugs at my lips. "With pleasure, Pakhan."

Lev is on my heels as I head out of the office and down to the main floor. The warehouse is on the south side of the Bronx, and I am already grinding my teeth at the traffic that is going to make me wait to unleash all this anger building.

By the time we arrive, I can hardly see past the red haze clouding my vision. Lev just watches as I stalk toward the bound and gagged man, unleashing on him. I beat him until I feel like I can breathe again, until he is begging for a fucking breath, and I finally calm down enough to grasp onto a little bit of the self control I normally have.

I circle the bound man, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous warehouse. The air reeks of sweat, fear, and a little piss. Asshole got it on my shoes.

My knuckles throb, slick with blood - his and mine. But it does nothing for the anger flooding through me.

"Let's try this again," I say, voice low and deadly calm. "Who sent you after my wife?"

The man's head lolls, one eye swollen shut. Blood trickles from his split lip. He wheezes, struggling to draw breath through broken ribs.

I grab a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back. "I'm losing patience."

From the shadows, Lev shifts. "Maybe he needs more motivation."

I ignore him, focused on my prey. My free hand traces the man's collarbone, coming to rest on a patch of ink peeking above his shirt collar. With a sharp tug, I rip the fabric, exposing a vivid red serpent coiling up his neck.

"Blyad," Lev curses. He's always spoken more Russian than me, and while I understand it, I don't talk it much. "The Red Serpents."

Of course. I should have seen that coming.

I release the captive's hair, wiping my hand on my trousers. "You're in way over your head, boy. The Reds can't protect you now."

Fear flashes in the man's good eye. I've hit a nerve.

"One last chance," I say, leaning close. "Talk, or I start removing fingers."

The warehouse falls silent, save for the man's ragged breathing. I wait, counting heartbeats. One. Two. Three.

He breaks on four right as I go in for the finger.

"Alright!" I tighten my grip. "Alright! The Reds sent me after her."

I lean in close, my breath hot against the captive's ear. "Good. Now tell me why."

He trembles, sweat mingling with blood on his battered face. I can smell the fear rolling off him in waves. Good. He should be terrified.

"I... I can't..." he chokes out.

My fingers twitch toward his hand. "Wrong answer."

"Wait!" he gasps. "Please... They'll kill me."

I grab his chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. "And what do you think I'll do?"

Something in my eyes must convince him. He swallows hard, wincing as the movement aggravates his injuries.

"It was... it was a message," he finally croaks. "From the boss."

My jaw clenches. "Which boss?"

"Volkov," he whispers, the name barely audible.

Beside me, Lev tenses. The Red Serpents' leader. This is worse than we thought.

"Go on," I growl.

The man's words tumble out in a rush. "He wanted to show you're vulnerable. That even your women aren't safe."

I grit my teeth. "Why my wife?"

"He said not to target the Sokolov women - no one has a death wish, you know." He chuckles like it's fucking funny that my wife was the one they went after. "He just wanted to rattle your Pakhan."

Rage boils in my veins. The thought of Virginia, terrified and hunted, because of this piece of shit...

I force my voice to remain steady. "You made a grave mistake."

Confusion flickers across his face, quickly replaced by dawning horror as I raise my gun.

"Wait, no-"

The gunshot echoes through the warehouse, cutting off his plea. A spray of red mists the air. The man slumps in his chair, a neat hole between his eyes.

I lower my weapon, the acrid smell of gunpowder filling my nostrils. My mind races, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. The Red Serpents have crossed a line. This isn't just business anymore - it's fucking personal.

"Clean this up," I bark at one of my men. He nods, already moving to dispose of the body.

Lev steps closer, his face grim. "What are you thinking of doing next?"

I holster my gun, jaw clenched tight. He might be the Pakhan's righthand, but this is fucking personal. He'll let me do what I need to. "We hit back. Hard."

"Nikolai will want to know about this," Lev says, knowing as well as I do that his brother is going to snap when he finds out that this little gang is coming after our women.

The Pakhan is known for being possessive and ruthless. They don't know what they just unleashed.

"I'll tell him," I say.

We stride out of the warehouse, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stuffy interior. My thoughts drift to Virginia, safe at home but unaware of how close she came to real danger. My blood starts to boil all over again.

"I want eyes on every Red Serpent hangout," I tell Anatoly as Lev and I reach our cars where more guys wait. "Find me their weakest link."

He nods, already pulling out his phone. "Consider it done."

As I slide behind the wheel of my car, my mind is already mapping out our retaliation. Volkov thinks he can rattle us by going after our women? He has no idea what he's unleashed.

I start the engine, my resolve hardening with each passing second. The Red Serpents wanted to send a message? Fine. I'll send one right back - written in fucking blood. The guys know exactly what to do with that body to get the point across. No one touches what's mine and lives to tell about it.

By the time I get home, it's pushing the early hours of the morning. I step into the darkened living room, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders. The events of the night replay in my mind, each gruesome detail etched into my memory. But as my eyes adjust to the dim light, all thoughts of blood and vengeance fade away.

Virginia’s curled up on the couch, her dark curls spilling across the cushions. She's still wearing the clothes from earlier, a book lying forgotten on the floor beside her. My chest tightens at the sight.

She waited up for me.

I move closer, careful not to wake her. In sleep, her face is relaxed, free from the worry and defiance that usually mark her features around me. She looks younger, more vulnerable. The urge to protect her surges through me with unexpected force.

Gently, I slide one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. She stirs slightly as I lift her, mumbling something incoherent before nestling against my chest. The scent of her shampoo - vanilla and something floral - fills my senses.

As I carry her towards her bedroom, I'm struck by how light she feels in my arms. How fragile. The thought of what could have happened if I hadn't gotten there in time today... My arms tighten around her instinctively. I consider taking her into my room, but I don't want to push her too far.

I nudge the bedroom door open with my foot, maneuvering carefully through the darkness. Moonlight spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I lay Virginia down on the bed, my movements slow and deliberate.

She sighs in her sleep, turning towards me as I pull the covers over her. My hand hovers over her cheek, wanting to brush away a stray curl but not daring to touch.

Something unfamiliar stirs in my chest as I look at her - a warmth I can't quite name. It's more than just protectiveness or desire. It's...

I shake my head, stepping back from the bed. Whatever this feeling is, I'm not ready to examine it too closely. Not yet.