3
Natasha
He dies, you die.
Dima just threatened my life. Dima, the bratva bad boy I thought was the nicest of the guys in the Kremlin. I should have listened to my mom. She tried to tell me this. These men are dangerous, and they won’t hesitate to kill anyone who threatens them.
I don’t know how I could’ve thought there was potential between us.
I steal a glance at his twin Nikolai.
He raises his brows. “He’s pissed,” he says with exaggerated awe, like he’s surprised, too. Like Dima never gets mad.
I rip open the package of gauze with trembling fingers while he holds the balled up shirt in place over his wound. Every part of me trembles—lips, chin, fingers, knees.
I’m not even sure what happened back there. Alex shot Nikolai! —that’s what happened. I quickly unravel a length of ga
