by Liz K. Lorde
“You want to offer me a truce?” My father parrots, his eyes shining brightly in rage.
“Yes.”
“This is ridiculous,” Yuri shouts. “Kill him now!”
Cas raises his hands higher, his eyes locking to my father’s.
“Just hear me out,” he says in his most reasonable voice.
Uncertainty plays briefly across my father’s face as his eyes graze over Cas.
Finally, he answers, “Make it quick.”
Even from up at the altar, I see the smile that tugs at Cas’ lips.
“I came here today for one simple reason,” Cas begins. “I’m sure you know what it is.”
“Ana.”
Cas nods. “Yes, Ana. I’m in love with your daughter, and she with me.”
“I thought you said something about a truce.”
Frustration flares quickly across his face, disappearing almost too quickly to be noticed.
“I did. Here’s the thing, Rachmanoff. You and I both know what you did to my father, just like we both know that you’ve been crossing into our territory. I could kill for less. In fact, I already have.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is I won’t.”
More hushed voices raise at this statement as confusion engulfs the room like a flood.
I stare hard at my father, watching his hardened face for any sign of his next move.
“I won’t take the revenge that I rightfully deserve. I won’t go after your men. Starting today, I will respect your borders, as will the rest of my men.”
Silence follows for a short moment.
“And in return?” my father finally asks.
I see relief taking over Cas’ features.
“In return, I only want Ana.”
“Outrageous!” Yuri screams, gesturing roughly towards Cas. “You’re too late. Ana is my wife, as witnessed by everyone in this room!”
Cas’ laughter bounces freely around the room.
“How can you be married to Ana, when her husband is standing right here?”
The smug look shrivels quickly on Yuri’s face, understanding hitting him the next moment.
“As you can see,” Cas begins, “I’m very much alive. So, Ana and I are still married. And last I checked, polygamy is illegal.”
Yuri’s eyes flare brilliantly; his large hands bunching into fists at his side. Strings of Russian words fly from his lips, quickly and unintelligibly.
“I’ll kill you!” he finally shouts, storming down from the altar.
My father raises his hand quickly, the silent order stopping Yuri in his tracks.
“I’m still listening to the boy,” he says simply, gesturing for Cas to continue.
My heart flutters in my chest as my head spins.
Could this actually work?
“You can’t be serious!” Yuri screams, ripping roughly into my thoughts, “You’re going to stand there and listen to this little shit?” He points to Cas, his eyes now ablaze. “I don’t know how you survived that fire,” he shouts, “but I’ll make damn sure you won’t survive this!”
His hand snakes quickly into his jacket, his lips pulling back into a feral snarl. He pulls his gun free in an instant, pointing the barrel directly toward Cas.
“No!” I scream, starting toward him.
Time seems to slow down, my feet moving as if I’m walking through water.
I see Cas’ eyes widen, looking quickly in my direction.
No, I think, not like this.
Yuri roars as he pulls the trigger.
The gunshot is deafening.
Chapter 37
Cas
For the third time in many years, Yuri holds my life in his hands.
Staring down the barrel of his gun, I can’t help but think of the moments that have made up my life so far and if I would change anything.
I wish I had run-off with Ana earlier.
I wish I had tried to reason with her father in order to gain his approval.
I wish I had found her quicker after our failed marriage attempt.
When it comes down to it, anything I would change all serves the same purpose: to be with Ana.
And, in the end, I got to be with her. So, really, I wouldn’t change a thing.
I love her. I love our unborn child. And I know Nico and the rest of my extended family will take good care of her.
Yuri pulls the trigger of his gun, and I look at Ana’s lovely face one final time.
But death eludes me—I feel the bullet graze my shoulder, and before Yuri can fire off another shot, the doors to the church bang open, and Nico and our men barge in, armed to the teeth.
They’re all in waiter uniforms; it’s so comical, I almost start laughing.
And then pandemonium ensues.
Terrified wedding guests frantically try to escape or to hide between the church pews, all of them screaming.
So much screaming.
Yuri loses sight of me amongst the madness, and I use the opportunity to find Ana, hidden behind the altar.
I kneel down beside her. She looks at me with tears in her wide, beautiful eyes.
“Cas! I thought—I thought he was going to kill you! I thought that was it!”
I hug her fiercely.
“Good thing his aim still hasn’t improved.” I swing my head about, spotting Yuri in amongst a throng of his own men, just as he spots me. “Though he’s still trying his damnedest to do so.”
I kiss Ana quickly, then run off in the opposite direction to Yuri. I can’t have him anywhere near her.
“Get out of here if you can!” I shout back at Ana. “I love you!”
I hear her respond just as I whip my gun out and shoot down one of Yuri’s men.
“Watch your left side!” I bellow at Nico, pointing at the dead man on the floor. “He nearly got you in the head!”
Nico flashes me a grin.
“That’s what big brothers are for,” he says, before adding another of Yuri’s men to the blanket of corpses on the floor.
More than our fair share of those corpses are men loyal to me and Nico, I note with dismay.
If I get out alive, I have a lot of families to console, I can’t help but think as I sneak up behind another of Yuri’s men, disarm him, then use his own AR-15 to take him down, along with two others.
Ana’s parents are nowhere to be seen; I wonder whether that means her mother got out safely. I hope, for Ana’s sake, that she did.
Suddenly, a figure comes hurling at me out of nowhere and flings me down. My gun skitters across the floor, out of reach.
Yuri is on top of me, pummeling my face before I have time to blink.
“Do you really think I’d let you steal my wife?” he screams into my face.
There’s blood staining his blonde hair, dripping down over his forehead. His eyes are white and wide with rage, nostrils flaring as he aims another punch at my face.
He looks like a madman.
I catch his fist in my hand and knee him in the groin, using his momentary yowl of pain to slide a small knife out of the side of my shoe.
I slash it across his nose, sending a spray of blood over my face that forces me to close my eyes. I hear Yuri scream; when I open my eyes, I see him clutching at his face, eyes furious.
I roll away, but I don’t get far before Yuri’s hands grab the back of my shirt and haul me back.
He keeps a solid, steely grip on my neck as he attempts to crush my windpipe. My vision goes dark for a second, all red spots and haziness.
“If you had just died like you were supposed to three years ago,” Yuri growls, spitting blood out of his mouth as he does so, “then everyone would have been better off. So fucking die now!”
The pressure on my neck suddenly lessens as Yuri is struck over the back of the head, and he falls to the floor.
“Thanks, Nico,” I barely manage to utter as I struggle to refill my lungs with ragged, painful breaths.
Nico gives me a look that says ‘You�
��re welcome.’ before tossing the ornate candlestick holder he hit Yuri with to the side and rushes off to aid one of his men.
Yuri isn’t down for long. In the time it takes me to get my breath back, to stand up and absorb the sounds of terror and death permeating the air, he’s staggered back up to his feet.
He grins maniacally at me. With his face covered in blood and with that glint in his eye, even I can’t help but feel a little intimidated. I take a step back.
This is a man who would happily rip me apart, limb by limb.
“I’m going to destroy you,” he says slowly, “I’m going to kill you in front of Ana, and then I’ll kill your friends. And then I’ll fuck her on your corpse. I’ll make her look into your empty, lifeless eyes as I screw her into oblivion.”
My blood turns cold, then boiling, boiling hot. Just the thought that Yuri could do that—and will do it if he beats me now—awakens a primal rage inside me that finds me flinging myself against Yuri’s huge frame, stabbing my knife into his side.
When I twist the knife, Yuri shrieks in pain like a wounded animal.
“I will never let you touch her,” I utter through gritted teeth.
I remove the knife only to slash it heavily against his right hand, cutting off two of his fingers.
“I will never let you see her.”
As Yuri falls to his knees, clinging onto what remains of his right hand, his mouth contorted in a wordless scream, I plunge the blade into first his left eye, and then his right.
Nico sees what I’m doing and kicks my gun back over to me. I pick it up and place the barrel against Yuri’s forehead.
“And I will never give you another opportunity to interfere with our lives.”
I pull the trigger.
Yuri is dead before his mangled, bloodied corpse hits the floor, his mouth still twisted around an animalistic scream that will never be heard.
I glance around me. Ana hasn’t witnessed the monstrous way I took down her fiancé, which I couldn’t be more grateful for.
But it’s only fitting that as horrific a man as Yuri is, he is given a horrific ending.
I look down at the blood running from his eye sockets—it’s as close to crying as I imagine Yuri ever got.
I throw a kick at his face.
“Rot in fucking hell,” I mutter before turning away from him to locate Ana.
But then, to the left of me, I hear a gun shot that reverberates in my ears more than any of the other gun shots do.
I hear a familiar voice yell out in surprise and pain.
Oh, no.
I rush towards the sound.
And there’s Nico, with a gaping hole in his chest.
He stares at me in horror. I stare right back.
“Brother…” he mouths wordlessly, his blood pulling on the floor.
Some instinct inside me causes me to throw myself to the floor. I narrowly avoid a flying bullet.
With the battle between the Russian mob and the Italian mafia still going strong around me, it almost feels an insurmountable task to reach my brother before he bleeds out.
But I must.
I have to.
Nico is not dying for my mistakes. I’ll make damn sure of it.
Chapter 38
Ana
I crouch behind the altar, surrounded by a chorus of gunshots and screams. My body trembles uncontrollably, tears stinging my eyes.
It’s all gone wrong.
I think of running as Cas said, but even in my terror, I know that I never will.
This mess is mine and Cas’ creation, this blood on both of our hands. I can’t just flee while others die for my choices.
My husband is down there, our families as well.
I cradle my head in my hands, feeling my heart beat heavily behind my eyes. I have to get it together. I have to try and fix this.
I peer cautiously around the side of the altar, my eyes roving wildly across the bloodbath that the room has become.
Bodies lay crumpled across the floor, cries of pain and fury mixing freely in the air like some horrific symphony. I shudder at the sight, knowing that I will never be able to wash my mind of the horror I’m witnessing.
Panic races through me as I sweep the crowd for Cas, my eyes raking desperately over the chaos.
After a moment that seems like an eternity, I finally spot him.
His face is covered in blood, his gun clasped tightly in one hand. He stares intently towards the ground, teeth bared in primal fury.
I follow his gaze, my eyes pulling towards a large, crumpled form at his feet.
The bloodied body is achingly familiar.
Yuri.
A jolt of hope flashes fleetingly through my mind at the sight.
Yuri is dead.
It takes my frenzied thoughts a second to truly understand, though. His death no longer means salvation. It’s gone too far, everything having coalesced into this moment.
There’s no going back now.
Around me, the battle continues, bodies still piling up around the room.
I stare around at the faces of the bloodied men, knowing that nothing less than a miracle could stop them now.
I spot Nico in the commotion, his usually smiling face now cloaked in severity, his gun making quick work of the opposing men. He seems to glide around the room, his feet expertly avoiding the myriad corpses even as his bullets hone precisely in at their targets.
I’ve never seen this side of Nico, this cold and practiced killer.
Guilt weighs heavy on my heart, knowing that it’s only for us that he’s in this situation.
Suddenly, he stills, his feet halting as a shudder seems to pass through him. He turns, his eyes widening alarmingly, a stain beginning to form on his shirt.
No.
He raises his gun slowly, looking around in shock for a moment before his body crumples to the floor.
“Nico!” I hear Cas’ terrified voice, finding me even from across the room.
I see him now, running towards the bloodied form of his brother, bullets narrowly missing him as he crosses the room.
Panic like I’ve never witnessed pulls heavily across his face, his lips tearing into a snarl as he nears.
He drops to his knees beside Nico, reaching desperately towards him.
The scene seems to unfold in slow motion: Cas screaming, his hands clinging roughly to his only brother. Blood pours steadily from the wound, pooling on the ground between them. Cas’ eyes track fiercely around the room, searching for threats as he grabs for Nico’s arms, pulling him slowly towards the nearest pew.
I watch in horror, my eyes drawing to the trail that stains the floor in their wake.
All hope shrivels in my chest, my will seeming to drain from me in a flood.
This is it. The end of our story.
It’s written in blood.
My hand pulls towards my stomach, gently caressing the skin like a goodbye.
My dreams crumble in my mind, thoughts of what our lives might one day be turning to dust.
Everything we had hoped for is gone, the loss racking through me in waves.
I watch the battle continue to rage around me, feeling removed, distant.
In my mind, I idly track the outcome, realizing that the opposing sides are evenly matched. Corpses in suits and in waiter’s uniforms dot the ground in near equal number.
The fight seems futile, both sides sustaining heavy losses, both sides fighting onward regardless.
I imagine nothing but a room of bodies, realizing with a shudder that neither side will ever relent. We’re all doomed even before anyone surrenders, which is exactly what’s going to happen now.
We’re all dead.
I look towards the pew where my husband crouches, seeing him occasionally rise up to take another shot.
In my mind, I’m saying goodbye, willing my thoughts to find him.
I close my eyes, feeling the sting of tears and no longer trying to fight them.
“ENOUGH!�
��
The word carries loudly around the room.
My eyes fly open, my gaze raking around for the source.
“I said ENOUGH!”
I look towards the sound, my heart skipping a beat as I see my mother.
She stands resolute at the side of the room, her eyes burning with passion. She seems to look through the danger around her, ignoring the guns and bullets alike.
“Ceasefire!” she shouts.
Every person in the room seems to hesitate, guns wavering at the command.
Cas stands, looking amazedly towards her.
“You heard the woman!” he calls. “Lower your guns.”
The silence is startling in the wake of such madness.
My mother stares around the room, her hands bunching into fists at her sides as if she’s warring with her own thoughts.
“Andreas,” she finally continues. “I accept.”
A murmur runs through the room, confusion and relief echoing in equal measure.
“You accept?” Cas asks, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.
“Yes, I accept your truce. If you’re still offering, that is.”
Cas’ eyes find me, amazement flashing through them.
“Yes,” he says simply.
My mother turns, her eyes falling to my father. He stands in the corner of the room, his shirt stained with blood, his gun still poised in his hand.
A question seems to flicker across her expression, her eyes pleading.
Slowly, he lowers his gun.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice sounding surprisingly gentle.
She nods.
“Enough men have died today. I can’t bear the bloodshed anymore.” She looks toward the altar, her eyes finding me as I stand. “Yuri is dead. Our plans have failed regardless of what we do next. What do we have to lose?”
Her voice is full of pain, her stance pleading as she gestures around the room.
The floors are painted in blood, the wounded and dead lay scattered together, groans of pain still heard, echoing off of the walls in a ghostly melody.
All eyes turn to my father, tension heavy in the air.
Russians and Italians alike seem to hold their breath collectively, waiting for the decision that will either seal their fates or save them.
After a long moment, he nods once, the action so small I almost miss it.