Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
My mind raced with worry.
What if she didn’t want to hear it?
What if she didn’t feel the same way?
It didn't matter. She needed to know, and I needed to tell her.
The words left my lips before I could stop them.
And they were true.
I loved her.
The only reason I hadn't already said them—roared them from the rooftops until the entire world knew how protected she was—was because I didn't want to scare her.
Alina gasped softly. A single tear ran down her cheek.
I leaned in and kissed it away.
She blinked as more tears welled. “Really? You love me? Truly?”
“Of course, I love you. You’re my sweet little kitten.”
She swallowed, looking almost afraid to ask. “And the baby?”
My hand splayed over her stomach. “I didn’t think you could make me any happier than I already was… but damn, woman… you still surprise me.” I kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear. “I couldn’t be happier about the baby.”
A wobbly, slightly watery smile practically beaming from her beautiful face, she peppered my cheeks in kisses, saying, "I love you too, Pavel, so much, and I can't wait for us to meet our chi—"
Blinding white light exploded through the windshield, turning the world into a glaring nightmare.
Another set of headlights blazed to life behind us, filling the rearview mirror and effectively blinding us.
My chest tightened.
This wasn’t random.
This was a coordinated attack.
"Get down!" I roared, throwing the Range Rover into Drive.
The engine screamed as I floored the accelerator, but we were boxed in, with nowhere to run. Trees and guardrails on both sides, death closing in from the front and back.
In the driver's side mirror, I caught the silhouette of assault rifles being raised.
"Pavel!" Alina's terrified scream cut through the chaos.
The first shots shattered our rear window.
They weren't trying to capture us.
They were here to kill my wife and my unborn child.
Over my dead fucking body.
Metal shrieked against metal as we collided with the barrier.
The other car didn't stop—it pushed harder, grinding against us until our Range Rover flipped over the railing.
Glass erupted in a thousand deadly fragments as we tumbled off the elevated road into the dense forest below.
The world became a chaos of spinning metal, shattering glass, exploding airbags, and the sickening crunch of trees splintering against our car.
Then nothing but cold, horrifying darkness.
CHAPTER 35
ALINA
Blood. Smoke. Silence.
Unfamiliar voices drifted through the haze—flowing, melodic words I couldn't understand. Italian, maybe Spanish.
The sharp ringing in my ears made it hard to focus, competing with the insistent dinging from the dashboard.
Every breath brought the acrid taste of blood, gasoline, and burnt rubber, burning my lungs and making me cough.
Each movement sent lightning bolts of agony through my skull.
Sirens wailed in the distance, but I couldn't tell how far away they were—or even if they were for us. The sound warped and twisted as I fought to open my eyes and take stock of the wreckage.
What the hell had just happened?
My vision swam as I reached toward the driver's side, desperate to touch my husband. I needed to know Pavel was okay.
My hand found his shoulder, then his neck, feeling for his pulse. Strong and steady.
He was alive.
I was alive.
Every inch of me hurt, but I was breathing. My hand went to my stomach. Glass littered everything, but the only blood came from shallow scrapes and cuts.
I took another breath, my lungs protesting the smoke as I turned to look at Pavel.
He was unconscious, his head slumped to the side with a bleeding cut on his forehead.
The driver's side door hung wide open, twisted metal gaping like a wound.
When had that happened?
Brushing at the deflating airbags to get them out of my way so I could take a better look at where we'd landed and how we might get out of this situation, I stifled a scream when I realized what I was seeing.
A figure in a tailored black coat stood over the wreckage, his gaze methodically scanning the destruction.
Ice shot through my veins as his eyes found mine.
"Help," I tried to call out, praying he worked for Pavel's family—or was a first responder.
He said nothing. Just pointed.
Three more men materialized at the opening of the destroyed door, their hands already reaching for Pavel.
"No," I croaked. "What are you doing?"
They ignored my protest completely. I grabbed Pavel's shirt with desperate fingers, but they yanked him away, the fabric ripping in my grip.
They hauled his unconscious body up the small embankment to the road above, then vanished into the night like ghosts.
Shouts echoed in the darkness. Engines roared to life.
Then silence.
Who were these people?
Where had they taken my husband?
Tears blurred my vision as I choked on the smoke pouring from the engine and filling the cabin.
The world tilted dangerously, and my eyelids grew heavy.
Maybe if I just closed them for a moment, I'd wake up back in our bed—warm, safe, and whole.