Primal
My legs wobbled as Valentina ducked under the ropes and entered the ring, swinging her chiseled arms in circles and limbering up for the fight. My confidence waned as I sized up my competition. She peeled off her shirt and revealed her lean, sculpted body. She had the head of a colorful, fire-breathing dragon tattooed on her right shoulder, and its long, slender body snaked around her torso, giving the illusion it was cinching her taut waistline. As Maksim’s personal bodyguard, she undoubtedly had fighting skills that rivaled Dmitri’s. Maksim hadn’t chosen her to protect him because of her beauty or temperament; he charged her with his personal security because she was the most qualified person for the job.
Valentina shadow-boxed an imaginary opponent with a series of martial arts moves, jump kicks, and karate chops. By comparison, I didn’t have any skills to match her lethal moves. A mother’s love wouldn’t miraculously grant me fighting skills. For the first time since I’d been captured, my confidence was shattered. I said a silent prayer for angels to wrap their wings around my waist and serve as a shield to protect my baby. The sensation of a warm blanket covered my body and gave me hope that the universe was on our side—but hope wasn’t enough to protect us from the horrors we were about to face. Mama must fight to win.
Maksim clanged the starting bell, and the crowd of his crew members cheered. With my arms protectively around my waist, I braced myself for the first blow. Valentina pounded me square in the chest and knocked the wind out of me. The force of her bony fist crashing into me nearly knocked me off my feet. I stumbled, but regained my balance before I fell. I doubled over, trying to catch my breath and protect the baby at the same time. Valentina pummeled me in the back as I was bent over, and dropped me to the floor.
Out of hope, I called out to the universe again and made one final request. Don’t separate me from my child. If I live through this ordeal, then the baby survives too. If I lose him, then we leave this world together.
I blocked out the shouting from the crowd, the blows from my opponent, and concentrated on the memory of my late sister, Sophia. I focused on her welcoming smile, and an angelic image of her appeared in my mind. She was surrounded in a warm, golden light, and her blonde hair was curled into long, cascading ringlets. In her arms, another beautiful soul entered my vision—a healthy baby boy with blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a pointy nose. I recognized him instantly as my son, and a single word came to mind—George. A perfect name for my strong baby boy.
Although he had only been conceived fifteen weeks ago, he was a fighter like his parents. In order to defeat Valentina, I would emulate the strength of George’s namesake and slay the bitch-faced dragon that aimed to bring us harm. I wasn’t a princess who needed rescuing. My love for baby George had given me the strength and determination to do everything in my power to do my job—protect our baby.
Never fuck with an Ivanov.
Seeing the image of my son sent rocket fuel pumping through my veins. As much as I detested Valentina and wanted to beat her senseless, I couldn’t risk switching from defense to offense. Whatever she had planned for me, I had to endure it. Time was my best weapon. Boris would return with reinforcements, but it would all be in vain if George and I lost the fight.
As I snapped out of my vision and blinked away the stars flashing before my eyes, I stared blindly into the crowd. My gaze landed on Vladimir. His face was burning with rage, and it took an army of men to hold him back from storming into the ring. He was yelling wildly for me to attack my opponent, but I had to rely on my brains, rather than my inferior brawn, to take down my highly-trained adversary.
“Ready to fight back, spoiled princess?” Valentina tapped me on the head to spur me on.
I glanced into the crowd and found Dmitri ringside as well. The champ was shackled and in handcuffs, but even so, he exuded strength and power as a pack of enforcers held him back. He shouted at me, ordering me to gouge out Valentina’s eyes with my fingernails and crack her in the face with my elbow to break her nose. Vladimir and Dmitri both wanted me to attack her, but if I exposed my stomach, she would undoubtedly fight dirty and try to harm my child.
Sorry, guys. A mother’s instincts take precedence over street smarts.
When I failed to take a swing at her, Valentina taunted me and verbally assaulted me for being a coward. “You are nothing but a broken-down devushka. Your weakness casts shame on your husband, but that’s his fault for marrying an American woman.” Valentina switched her language to Russian and continued to berate me as she drew back her fist.
I bent my knees and turned my shoulders to brace myself for another blow. The best way to defend myself was to try to anticipate her next move and block her with my shoulder. The pain would be excruciating, but as long as I stayed conscious, I could shield the baby.
She balled up her fist and took a shot to my stomach, but I turned to my right to take the hit on my side. With nothing but a mother’s love and a heaping dose of determination, I kept my arms locked in place as she pounded my forearms. I held my ground for an unending series of punches, but the force of her blows knocked me off my feet. I fell and landed flat on my back. I had blocked all of Valentina’s shots to my stomach, but to win, I had to come up with an offensive strike. She seemingly got bored of beating me, turned to the crowd of shitheads, and pumped her fist triumphantly to spur on her minions.
I inhaled a series of quick, deep breaths to fuel my body with oxygen. A sharp pain was throbbing in my back and my arm was probably broken, but I would endure the pain a million times over to protect my son. I scanned the crowd and absorbed the hate-filled faces of a gang of men who were cheering for Valentina, and turned their negative energy into survival rations. In my stunned stupor, my gaze fell upon Vladimir. His eyes were wild with terror. His expression reminded me that he had witnessed the vicious murder of his mama, papa, and two older brothers when he was a child, also at the hands of an Ovechkin.
Vladimir hadn’t chosen to be born into a life of crime, and although he had spent his life in the Bratva, he wanted desperately to end the cycle of violence and get out of the criminal underworld. We had tried and failed to start a new life, but as long as our hearts were beating, we had a chance of defying the odds, moving past the horror that had become our lives, and starting toward the future we dreamed of. My husband was shouting something over and over. I couldn’t single out his voice from the chaos of the crowd, but I knew there was only one way to defeat Valentina.
Hang on George, Mama’s going to slay the dragon.
Tearing through my mental catalog of survival instincts, I remembered the rules of combat the Russians had taught me. Find a weapon and fight dirty. While Valentina continued to rile her troops, I calculated my next move. I glanced around for anything I could use as a weapon. A belt, an empty bottle of vodka, a piece of furniture…
As I searched my surroundings, Yuri stood out to me as if a spotlight had illuminated his grisly face. His lips were moving, and I could tell he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear his voice over the crowd noise either. He kept saying the same thing over and over and over, but what? When he realized I couldn’t understand him, he pointed at my cumbersome, uncomfortable, ridiculously high, heavy-as-cinderblocks platform shoes.
Find a weapon and fight dirty. Thanks, Yuri!
When my gaze met the glittery weapons strapped on my feet, I jumped into action. While Valentina let her guard down and faced her cheering fans, I slid off my shoes, crept up behind her, and bashed her in the side of her head. Whack! Stunned by the blow, Valentina swung around to face me. It was clear by her expression she was dazed and in a concussed stupor, but I hadn’t hit her hard enough to knock her out.
“Hit her again! Don’t stop. Fight, Carter!” Dmitri chanted. A team of beefy enforcers held the reigning champ back from diving into the ring, but I channeled my bodyguard’s kickass energy and raised my shoe to deliver another blow. One or two more good swings and Valentina would be out cold. The momentum had shifted to Team Ivanov, and all that stood between my victory and Valentina’s defeat were a couple more punishing knocks to her head. I was poised to win and had the luxury of choosing my method of offense. I could give her a concussion, break her nose, or bust her jaw—but all those options seemed barbaric.
There was a gash above Valentina’s eye caused by my punishing blow. A bulbous knot had swelled to the size of a golf ball over her eyebrow and blood trailed down the side of her face. My conscience weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I realized I was the only person in the building who had never hurt anyone before. It wasn’t that I didn’t have it in me—I would do anything to save my family—but I had to protect my soul from turning black in the midst of a pack of cold-blooded mobsters. Moments ago, I had questioned the humanity of my enemies. Would I now let this experience turn me into one of them?
Valentina blinked to regain her senses and lifted her hands. This fight wasn’t over yet. If I didn’t make my move, I would lose the opportunity of an offensive strike. “When you act against an Ovechkin, you get it back a hundred times worse.” Her eyes were wild with fury. “No one can save you now, crazy bitch.” She narrowed her eyes, turned her shoulders, and lifted her hands in ready position.
At that moment, I felt a flutter of movement in my stomach. The sensation of a butterfly flapping paper-thin wings filled me with a sense of maternal bliss. George. For the first time, I felt the presence of my baby, growing and thriving inside me. He was alive and active and spurring on his mama to fight for our lives.
Don’t worry, George. I know what I have to do.
A protective energy radiated around my body, and I grew ten feet tall. My fingernails turned into razor-sharp claws. My puny arms doubled in size and strength, and I morphed into a fearless, overprotective mama bear. I tightened my grip on my rock-hard shoe, unleashed a primal growl, and delivered a powerful uppercut to her jaw. The force of the blow knocked her off her feet and dropped her to the floor.
My chest heaved and I panted as I towered over my opponent. I delivered the punch with all the strength I had, but Valentina was tough and refused to stay down. She lifted her head and fought to stay conscious. Technically, the fight ended with a knockout, but Valentina was struggling to get to her feet.
All eyes turned to Maksim, waiting for him to make the call. He was on his feet barking at Valentina in Russian, ordering her to get her ass up, and chastising her for letting me get a clean hit on her. As she ambled to her feet, I darted my gaze between Vladimir and Dmitri. They were screaming for me to hit her again and go for the knockout. I glanced at Yuri to see if he had another idea, but he stared at me with his arms crossed as if to say, “Do your job, Carter.”
My family was right. I had to finish what I started. Instead of going primal and beating the life out of my abuser like a crazed animal, I got down on my hands and knees and shoved Valentina under the ropes and out of the ring. A horrendous crash sounded and I peeked over the edge to see the damage. Valentina’s motionless body was face-down and sprawled out over a broken chair. Maksim assessed his bodyguard’s busted up body, and then his accusing glare landed on me. His expression oozed with outrage, but his ghostly blue eyes were laced with something else I couldn’t quite decipher. An unholy mix of vengeance, hatred, and a demented dose of sexual attraction radiated from his body.
Live to fight another day.
The crowd booed and wads of cash moved between hands while Valentina lay there motionless and was officially down for the count. Alexander stalked into the ring and lifted my arm to declare I was the winner. Yuri nodded as if congratulating himself on coaching me to victory, giving me faith he had purposely given me those shoes to use as a weapon against her. I shot a hopeful smile to Vladimir, but his expression was saturated with doubt and uncertainty. Judging by his downtrodden expression, he knew Maksim wasn’t done punishing him yet. I had survived that round, but I shuddered to find out what was going to happen next.
“Brilliant, Carter. You are an indestructible little plaything, aren’t you?” Maksim ducked under the ropes and entered the ring. Alexander held me captive in his arms in case I had any ill-advised ideas about taking a swing at his boss. “Your debt is settled, Carter.” He leaned in, kissed my cheeks, and whispered in my ear, “I pray your prowess transcends the boxing ring and finds its way into our bedroom.” He ran his fingertips along my jawline and trailed his hand down my neck seductively, tracing the love mark Vladimir had imprinted on my skin.
I snapped at him, trying to bite off his fingers, but he drew his hand back before I could sink my teeth into his flesh. “Now, let’s see how well your family can fight. Gentlemen, let’s get ready for Round Two.” Maksim ordered his crew to drag Vladimir and Dmitri into the ring.
Has the time come? Is Maksim going to murder Vladimir right here in the ring?
It had to have been close to sundown, and I had to think of a way to get us free so Boris could bust us out—with or without Yuri’s help.