Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) by Nicole Fox (first color ebook reader txt) 📕

Some of them cut and package coke. Others are lining guns up on the table. Konstantin really has the crime boss thing down pat. I grimace. This isn’t going to be easy at all. If anything, it’ll take time to lure them out one by one. The quickest way would be to—

A bullet hole appears right next to the car, inches from my head. I spin around and draw my pistol to see the third man standing behind me. Before he can get another shot off, I fire two bullets into his chest and one through his head. He stumbles forward, firing once more. It’s way off.

A second later, he collapses.

My heart pounds in my ears. He could’ve ended me right fucking there. It takes a few seconds for me to catch my breath. When I turn around, my stomach sinks. They heard the gunshots, obviously.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“I don’t know, but some shit is going down.”

“Get out there and look!”

They come pouring out of the building like a tiny militia, guns drawn.

“Fuck,” I mutter. I slip the pistol back into my holster and grab the rifle, steadying it in my hands. It’s now or never. I remind myself what has to happen. No matter what, I have to stop Konstantin and get Lucy away from him. Nothing else matters besides those two things.

I pop up from behind the car and aim for the man closest to me. Five, six, seven shots land in him, from his hips and legs to his chest and shoulders. He screams and falls backwards.

Three of them turn their guns and I duck behind the car just as they fire. The clanking of bullets on metal echoes in my head. I dodge and move behind another car, breathing hard. When I stand again, I get another round of shots off, hitting two of them.

“Fuck!” one shouts. He raises his gun and shoots, just barely missing.

“Kill the motherfucker. Get him!”

They duck behind cars as well, realizing that I’m not fucking around. It’s a game, a dance. I move behind their cars, peeking out to get a look at where they all are. One steps too far out from behind an SUV and I put two bullets into his knee.

“Shit!” he cries, falling forward. I empty the rest of the clip into him, watching as he dies. Then I duck down and toss the gun to the side. Should’ve brought two.

Out of the corner of my eye, in the reflection of the side mirror of the car I’m hiding behind, I see a man rushing towards me with a knife. I roll out of the way and grab the hand with the knife, twisting it until he lets go.

I manage to catch it with my other hand just as his punch connects with my head. The world tilts for a second, but I blink rapidly, trying to regain my composure. His second punch hits just as hard.

I can’t see where he is, but I can feel him. I throw all my weight into him, pinning his body between me and the car. He tries for another punch but I twist out of the way, bringing the knife down into his chest over and over again. I don’t stop until my hands are covered in his blood and his body goes limp.

My jaw aches from gritting my teeth.

I’m fucking sick of this.

I pull the backpack around and grab two of the flash grenades. I don’t know how many men are left, but two are near the first few cars between me and the warehouse doors. I tear the pins from both grenades and hold them for a second. When the time is right, I roll them under the cars and turn to cover my ears.

There’s a deafening bang and I hear the guys cry out in pain.

Adrenaline kicks in. They stand, coughing and blindly fumbling, and that’s when I rush in. With just the knife and the gun, I take them down, slicing and shooting, like an out-of-body experience.

They’re dead within seconds.

The night is quiet. I know that’s not everyone, but it feels as silent as it did when I first arrived. Cautiously, I grab one of the shotguns off a dead man and creep to the door. I toss another flash grenade into the room. It explodes, but no one cries out or begins stumbling around. The first floor must be cleared entirely. Gun drawn, I inch through the warehouse on high alert.

I’m expecting someone to pop out at any moment. My finger hovers over the shotgun’s trigger, just begging to pull. I start for the stairs when I hear footsteps approaching me from behind. I swing the gun around to shoot and she catches it, aiming it to the sky just as I fire.

Her leg comes out of nowhere, slamming against my exposed side. I stumble to my left but manage to grab hold of the leg, spinning her around and knocking her off balance. She tumbles to the floor in a heap.

Shit.

I don’t know why I didn’t expect a few women to work for him. Everything in me says that I should stick to my rules. I don’t kill women. I don’t hurt women. But she brushes her dark black hair from her face and glares up at me with the look of murder in her eyes and I know that she’s not going to go down without a fight.

She throws herself from the floor into me, knocking me up against the wall. I see something glint off the light before she arcs her arm down. I dodge the blade just before it sinks into the drywall behind me.

Her scream is feral, and she rips the knife from the wall, preparing for another stab at me. Before she can bring the knife down again, I press the shotgun in my other hand up under her chin and pull the