It happened so fast.
One second, Yan was ushering me inside the car, and the next, he was shot. It was silent, swift, and I wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t jerked back, slamming into me.
Blood covered his shoulder, but he still reached out to push me away.
It was too late, though.
While I was preoccupied with trying to stop the bleeding in his shoulder, unyielding hands pulled me into the car as it revved forward.
Yan held on to me with all his might. They shot him again in the same shoulder. I put my chest to his so they wouldn’t be able to kill him and used all my energy to pull him inside with me.
I can tell they don’t want me dead or they would’ve shot me, too, so I used my body as a shield against Yan. It’s clear they didn’t want him to join us, and I probably should’ve let him fall outside the car for the others to find and help him, but I couldn’t trust that they wouldn’t run him over on their way out, just to make sure he was dead.
My body is still covering his after one of the men in the front cut off my conversation with Adrian. Here’s to hoping the small bits of information I got to my fake husband will enable him and his men to find us soon. Not only because I have a horrible feeling about where they’re taking us, but also because Yan has lost a lot of blood. My white gloves have turned red from how much I’ve pressed on the two holes in his shoulder, but the blood won’t stop oozing out.
His lips are pale and he keeps trying to push me off with his good hand, but I refuse to budge. If I do, the man from the front who’s holding a damn rifle won’t hesitate to shoot him.
I haven’t paid attention to where we’re going, but the roads are secluded, silent and dark. There are two men in the front. The one who’s driving is wearing a leather jacket, hair hidden by a hat, and a black mask covers everything but his mouth and nose. He’s the silent one, the one who hasn’t talked since we got in here. The other man is nestling a rifle as if it’s his pet. He’s the one who shot Yan, the second time, at least, and cut off my phone call with Adrian.
They’re not talking, so I can’t tell what nationality they are, but Rifle Man spoke with an accented English just now.
I have no idea what this is, but I’m almost sure it has to do with Adrian. Are they kidnapping me to force him into doing something? I don’t think it’s because of a ransom, or they would’ve made their demands by now.
In that document, it was mentioned that Adrian was the target of many assassination attempts. Because of his position, he knows more than he should and uses it for the brotherhood’s benefits. Whether it’s to seize power, to order a hit, or to steal deals. His control over critical information has made him a target for numerous crime organizations and cartels—including the Bratva’s classic allies.
Ogla mentioned once that he works from home for his own safety, and that the Pakhan prefers it because it keeps the brotherhood’s most valuable asset, Adrian, from danger.
“Let me go,” Yan groans.
I shake my head against his shoulder. I’m straddling his lap, both of my hands pressing on his wound. “They’ll kill you.”
He raises a brow. “If they don’t, the boss will.”
I scowl. “This is not the time to think about Adrian’s stupid possessiveness.”
“He’ll really murder me for touching you.”
“You’re not touching. I am.” I stare behind me at the silent men. “Who are they?”
Yan shakes his head, and I’m not sure if it means he doesn’t know or that I shouldn’t talk about them when they can hear us. Probably both.
All I know is that these men are dangerous—professional, even. They managed to slip under the heavy security at tonight’s party and even leave unnoticed. The car does have tinted windows, which helped, but still. Yan and I were completely taken off guard.
“Why are you so calm?” Adrian’s guard asks me, sweat trickling down his temples.
I stare at my steady hands. Even my breathing is calm. I didn’t panic, not even when Yan was shot. My immediate thought was to get him safe and sound from that predicament. It still is.
But ever since I got that text, I’ve had a premonition that something bad would happen. That’s why I practically begged Adrian to take us home.
“Panic won’t do us any good, Yan.”
“You’re so different.” He grabs my hand with his non-injured one and tries to pry me off him.
I swat it away as gently as possible. “Stop worrying about Adrian’s reaction when you’re about to bleed to death.”
“Not possible. We exist for him.”
“Jesus. That’s some warped sense of loyalty.”
“He’s so blinded, though…” he trails off, his voice weakening. “He’s lost sight of what’s important…”
I press harder on his wound and he grunts, pursing his lips to stifle a moan of pain. I can feel my strength waning and Yan still won’t stop bleeding.
It doesn’t take him long to lose consciousness. He tries to fight it, I’ll give him that. He keeps attempting to open his lids when I call his name, but then he’s out cold.
“Yan! Don’t faint. Think of your stupid boss and Kolya and Jeremy.” My voice is urgent, hysterical almost. He’s the only semblance of a friend I’ve had ever since I stepped into Lia’s shoes.
His dry lips twitch, but he doesn’t attempt to open his eyes.
“Yan!”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Rifle Man turns around and hits me across the face with the tip of his rifle. Pain explodes over my temple and I taste metal from my lips.
Tears fill my eyes from the stinging pain, but I don’t let them out. I don’t release Yan’s inert, cold body either.
The car comes to a halt and I shrink further into Yan. If they throw him in the middle of nowhere, he won’t be able to survive.
“It’s time you deal with this bitch.” Rifle Man retrieves a cigarette. “I’m so tired of her annoying voice—”
His cigarette falls from his fingers when the driver shoots him between the eyes. His head lolls to the side, face contorted in surprise.
I gasp, my whole body going rigid. He just shot his partner.
The driver tips his head down, and the black hat hides his expression. His hand, covered by a black leather glove, rests on the steering wheel, and his other one that’s holding the gun is on his lap. His posture is relaxed, nonchalant.
“Noisy fucker,” he mutters casually.
My lips part as the realization slams into me. It’s the same voice from my nightmare.
The same tone.
The same tenor.
You have one mission. Pull the fucking trigger.
The shadow. The shadow is here.
“Long time no see, Duchess,” he says without turning around. “Miss me?”
I try to wiggle sideways to see him, but the hat and the mask still camouflage his face.
“Who are you?” My voice is calm but cautious.
“Who am I is an interesting way of putting it. Who are you, Duchess? What’s your mission?”
“I have no mission.”
“Yes, you do.” He twirls the gun in his hand, his forefinger pressing on the trigger. “You know it. I know it. If you don’t make it happen, you’ll pay the price.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” my lips tremble as the words leave them.
“Finding openings to talk to you is tedious as fuck, Duchess. Stop wasting my time and make it happen. I’ll check on you soon.” He gets out of the car, and before I can release a breath, he yanks my door open and wrenches me out.
I hold on to Yan and we both tumble to the ground. It’s dark outside. So dark that I can barely see the contours of Yan’s face.
The shadow stands in front of me, but there’s no way of making out who he is. He’s tall, lean, and smells like…bleach.
Bleach…why does he smell like that and why is it familiar?
“I’m not a patient man, Duchess. So don’t test my limits.”
And with that, he climbs in the car. The tires screech on the gravel and dirt before it shoots into the distance.
He’s leaving us here?
I don’t even have my phone to call Adrian or at least use it as a flashlight.
A groan comes from Yan and I feel in front of me until I catch something warm. His hand. Thank God it’s his hand and not another organ.
“Yan! Open your eyes.”
There’s no response, and when I touch his shoulder, I can feel the blood still oozing. If I don’t do something, he’ll undoubtedly die.
I strain to place him on his stomach, then I crouch in front of him, hook his good arm around my neck and grab the hem of his jacket with my other hand.
Standing up, I attempt to carry him. He’s heavier, taller, and bulkier than me, so that mission is an epic fail from the start. But I don’t let go of him, even when his entire weight falls on me.
I don’t stop.
I kick my heels off and walk barefoot to improve my balance. Pebbles dig into the soles of my feet like tiny needles. At first, I feel like my back will be broken into two, but after a few steps, an adrenaline wave rushes through my limbs.
I recall those times when I spent all-nighters in the studio, dancing and torturing my feet. I practiced again and again to perfect my posture, my technique, and my performance. If I could survive that, I can survive this. Because there’s no way in hell I’d leave Yan behind. He took those bullets for me. He’s dying because of me.
The night is calm and dark. There isn’t even a moon to help give me direction. A chill covers me from head to toe and my muscles scream in pain.
I walk for so long that I start losing feeling in my feet. I need to find a place to call for help, and I need to find it soon.
My toes touch a solid surface and I smile, even as I strain to hold him up. “I found a road, Yan. I’m going to get us to safety.”
He doesn’t release a sound. His pulse under my fingers is becoming weaker, his body heavier.
“Come on. Stay with me, Yan.”
Headlights shine in the distance and I attempt to make it to the road. I halt mid-step, jerking back when the car speeds past us. Fuck. That was close. If I had been on the road, it would’ve hit us.
The car stops up ahead, its red lights shining before it reverses at full speed, stopping right in front of us.
I nearly cry with joy when the passenger door opens and Adrian barges out. I stare up at his tightened features and his drawn gun. At the way he looks like a warlord ready to start a battle—and win it.
He found us.
No clue how he managed to do it so fast, but I’m so glad that he’s here. He grabs me by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”
I manage a slight nod, then motion at Yan. “He was shot. Twice. Help him.”
The words aren’t fully out before Kolya takes Yan from me and carries him. I don’t sag in relief that his weight is gone, though. If anything, my fingers shake as pessimistic thoughts rush in. At least when he was leaning on my back, I could feel his heartbeat, as low as it was, and tell myself he was alive. Now, it feels like he’s closer to death than life.
A second car stops behind this one and Kolya carefully places Yan inside.
“Lia.”
“What?” I answer absentmindedly, still watching Yan’s lifeless body.
“Lia!”
“What?” I snap at Adrian.
He’s wiping under my eyes. I taste salt and that’s when I realize I’ve been crying. For how long, I have no idea, but it’s been long enough that I’m sniffling and shaking.
Adrian checks my hands, my dress, and my coat.
“It’s not mine. It’s Yan’s,” I say to explain the blood.
Adrian’s thumb swipes under my cheek and I wince as he touches my cut lip. “Where’s the fucker who did this?”
“He died.”
“Died?”
“His partner killed him.”
“And where’s his partner?”
“He left in the car.” I stare up at him as the vehicle carrying Yan revs in the distance. “Is he going to be okay?”
I can sense the hesitation in Adrian. He saw him. He saw the blood. He knows that his second closest guard might not survive.
“Let’s leave.” He ushers me to the back seat and two of his guards get in the front.
Adrian keeps his arms around me during the entire ride home. The stupid tears won’t stop coming and I keep shivering like a leaf in winter.
He removes his jacket and wraps it over my bloodied coat, but that doesn’t ease the ache I’m feeling deep in my chest.
I’m crying, but it’s not only about Yan. I’m also crying because I think I know that man, the shadow, the one who said I had a mission.
And something tells me this mission is more dangerous than I could ever imagine.
