Heartbeat
I had no clue what Maksim had planned for Vladimir and Dmitri, but judging by his sinister smirk, clearly it was something awful. “Gentlemen, I have an offer for you I am certain you will be interested in. Vladimir, you will be dead within the hour. That will not change, but as a show of respect, I will give you one last chance to save your beloved Carter. Interested?”
“The penalty for harming my wife is death. You are the one who will die tonight.”
Maksim dismissed Vladimir’s threat with a condescending chuckle and turned his attention to Dmitri “What about you, moy droog? Want to save Mrs. Ivanov from her fate as my personal sex toy?”
Vladimir cursed at Maksim and ordered Dmitri not to listen to anything out of his mouth, adding that Maksim was a liar and not to be trusted. In the time I’d known Dmitri, he’d served the Bratva as a man of action rather than words. He obeyed orders and was loyal to the point of risking his own life to protect us. He had earned my respect and admiration a million times over, and I knew from experience he would never defy an order from my husband—no matter how tempting the offer.
Dmitri gave Maksim an up nod, indicating he was interested in making a deal.
What? No freaking way.
“Good man, Dmitri. No sense being loyal to a dead man. Perhaps when I spill the pakhan’s blood, you can have a crack at his luscious widow. I saw the lust in your eyes as you watched her pleasing her husband in your prison cell. With the boss gone, she’s yours for the taking, mate.”
“What the fuck do you want, Maksim?” Dmitri sneered.
“All I ask is for you to do one tiny thing for me, and then you and Mrs. Ivanov are free to leave. Follow my order and the two of you will walk away. Hell, I’ll even give you a ride to the airport and a loaded bank account. Deal?”
“What tiny thing?”
“Agree to the terms, and you’ll find out.”
Even after a searing glare from Vladimir, Dmitri begrudgingly answered in the affirmative, officially sinking to the level of insubordination within the ranks of the Ivanov Bratva. Maksim clanged the bell in the corner of the ring to get everyone’s attention. He snapped at Alexander to deliver me to Yuri for safe keeping. Then, Maksim introduced Vladimir and Dmitri to his crew as if it were a formal boxing match.
“Vladimir Ivanov is an enemy of the Ovechkin Bratva and will die for his crimes against the family. I am a man of my word, and since the pakhan has voluntarily surrendered to me, I will give him one last chance to set his wife free. All I ask for this generous offer is one small favor from the champ.” Maksim pointed to Dmitri.
“All you have to do to set Mrs. Ivanov free is kill your pakhan. Murder your boss right here in the ring, using nothing but your strength and bare hands, and I will release you and Carter immediately. If you refuse, you both die and Carter belongs to me for as long as she holds my interest.”
The Ovechkin crew cheered for Maksim’s macabre ultimatum and supported his ruthless leadership.
Dear God, this can’t be happening. There was no way a human being could be so cruel. I cried out and begged Maksim to call off the fight, but he rang the bell once again and ordered his crew to remove their restraints. Once Vladimir and Dmitri were free, the goons left the ring and the guys glared at each other and tossed off their shirts. My husband’s muscular body was heavy on Bratva ink from his shoulders all the way down his abs, but by contrast, the only tats Dmitri had inked on his skin were a series of “scratch” marks, like from a tiger, on his shoulder. Each tattoo represented a fight he’d won—and up until now, he was the undefeated champ.
“Shoot either of them if they try to escape.” Maksim strutted to the seating area marked off with red velvet ropes, while Yuri dragged me away and plastered me to his side in the black-roped visitor’s section. There were two armed guards on either side of the ring and about a dozen or so crew members whooping in celebration. Once again, wads of cash exchanged hands and the guys were betting heavily on the outcome of the death match.
“I trust you will be cheering for Dmitri, love?” Maksim yelled from across the ring. “If he fails, you’ll have a rough night ahead of you.”
I ignored Maksim and pleaded with my bodyguard. “Don’t do it, Dmitri. You’re not a killer—like your papa.”
He glanced at me and seemed to be contemplating Vladimir’s fate. On one hand, Dmitri had sworn to protect me with his life and get me back to America safely. He was an honorable guy and would do anything Vladimir ordered him to do—except murder him. Dmitri’s papa had killed his mother with his fists, and Dmitri had spent a lifetime trying to prove he was nothing like him. Instead, he made it his mission to use his strength to protect people, rather than harm them.
He idolized Vladimir, and although my husband’s fate was all but sealed, Dmitri was too loyal and kind-hearted to play Maksim’s unholy game for the sake of entertainment. I had faith my friend, bodyguard, and a trusted member of our inner circle would never commit such a heinous crime. Maksim clanged the bell again. Vladimir stood in the center of the ring with his arms at his side. Dmitri mirrored his stance and didn’t make a move. But after Vladimir gave him the order to take his life for the sake of my freedom, Dmitri’s expression hardened. He raised his fists, charged at Vladimir, and started swinging.
“Dmitri, no! Stop!” I jumped out of my seat and tried to run back into the ring, but Yuri caught me by the back of my dress. Dmitri didn’t relent and Vladimir refused to protect himself. “Fight back, Vladimir. I don’t want this. My freedom isn’t worth your life or Dmitri’s soul.”
Sickened by the primal sounds of fists on flesh and the frightening thuds of violence, I clung to Yuri’s arm and buried my face in his chest. I couldn’t witness my dear friend beating the life out of my husband. There was no excuse, no good reason, no sense of humanity left in the building. “Yuri, for the love of God. Please stop them.” I collapsed and slumped over, unable to witness the traumatizing scene playing out before my eyes.
Yuri caught me before I crash landed on the floor in a disheveled heap and held my body against his. “Hang on, Carter. This will all be over soon. Be strong and do your job.”
What? My job was to protect the baby. Was I delusional in thinking Yuri had flipped and had come home to Team Ivanov?
“Keep Carter alert and focused,” Maksim yelled from across the ring. “I want her to witness her husband’s death. She needs to see the light leave his eyes for good this time.”
Yuri tapped my cheeks and shook me until I opened my eyes. I called out to Vladimir. “Don’t let him kill you, Vladimir. Call off the order!”
My husband, badly beaten but still on his feet, delivered his parting words. “Forget about everything that happened here. Forgive Dmitri and leave with him. This isn’t his fault, Carter. He is following my order.” He held his gaze on mine, then turned to Dmitri and ordered him to finish the job.
Dmitri’s jaw clenched. He stood in front of Vladimir with his fist back, ready to deliver a fatal blow, but he hesitated, unwilling to become his father’s son. Vladimir repeated his order with enough torque behind it to blow off the roof, but Dmitri lowered his fists and stood down. I sighed in relief and gripped Yuri’s arm to relieve the tension. Our plan to escape would be pointless if Vladimir didn’t survive.
The only person in the room who seemed more ticked off than Vladimir was Maksim. “Come, now, Dmitri. You must obey the pakhan. If you don’t kill him, I will. You want Mrs. Ivanov to have her freedom, then you must follow orders. Finish him, or my new sex slave will suffer for your insubordination.”
Dmitri gave Maksim his nasty fighter face and spat on the ground. “I am not murderer.”
“You are a disgrace to your family, Dmitri. If you don’t have the courage to take Vladimir’s life, let’s see if he is man enough to take yours. One way or another, there’s going to be a dead body in that ring before the night is over.” Maksim’s face burned with rage, but he kept his composure as he manufactured a new deal. “Vladimir, this is my final offer. Take it, or your wife will never see the light of day again. Kill Dmitri, and I will allow Carter to walk free. No conditions. No mercy. One of you dies by the other’s hand, or you both die with my bullets. Go.” He clanged the bell and marched back to his seat.
The crowd cheered, pumped their fists, and applauded their pakhan. The lot of unscrupulous dirtballs craved the blood of their enemy, and their leader was determined to oblige. An unholy expression spread across Vladimir’s face. I could not believe he was considering Maksim’s offer, but his eyes burned with murderous intent. Vladimir reared back his fist and lunged at Dmitri. He decked him in the nose, sending blood splatters all over his white t-shirt. I clung to Yuri, hoping and praying someone in the family had a legitimate plan to save us all before there was nothing left of the guys but hunks of flesh. Maksim sprang to his feet and cheered as Vladimir pummeled Dmitri, relentless in his mission to beat the life out of him.
“Vladimir, stop.”
As he pounded away, Dmitri’s legs began to wobble, and a rapid-fire round of blows to his head knocked him senseless. Seeing his eyes roll back and his muscular body dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes, I shrugged out of Yuri’s grasp and ran back to the ring. No one stopped me as I slid under the ropes and knelt beside Dmitri’s limp body. I picked up his hand and held it to my heart, and with the other, I ran my fingertips over his bloody face. “Dmitri, can you hear me? Say something.”
Dmitri groaned dramatically. Then he tilted his head to the side and his expression froze. I pressed my ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat. His ticker was pounding strong and he was perspiring profusely.
I clutched his shoulders and shook him. “Dmitri, wake up. You have to fight.”
Vladimir lifted me off the ground and held me in his embrace. “I did what you said, Maksim. I killed him. Let my wife go.”
Maksim called out to Yuri and instructed him to confirm that Dmitri was dead, which I was absolutely certain he was not. Dmitri’s cheeks were pink, his nostrils were flaring, and his chest was heaving from the strenuous workout. What the hell was going on?
Yuri lumbered into the ring, lifted Dmitri’s wrist, and checked his pulse.
“Well?” Maksim asked.
“He’s dead,” Yuri said.
No, he’s not. I see him breathing. Yuri is lying. Were the guys pretending to beat the life out of each other to stall for time?
“I’m sorry, Carter. I had no choice. You know I love you and would do anything to protect you and the baby.” Vladimir had strategically positioned us so we were standing in front of Dmitri, blocking his upper body from Maksim’s view. Whatever was going down, Yuri had officially crossed enemy lines and was back on the winning team.
“Escort my wife to the exit,” Vladimir said to Yuri. “I honored my end of the deal. I don’t want my wife to witness my murder. Let her go. Now.”
Yuri stood and clutched my arm. “What do you want me to do with the girl, Maks?”
“Set her free, of course—after you put a bullet in Vladimir’s head.”