Chapter 17 - Blood in the Snow
A bitter, unseasonable snow began to fall as we approached the center of the clearing.
Alexei recovered his composure quickly, though his eyes darted nervously between Dante and me.
"A clever trick, Russo," Alexei sneered, gesturing toward me with a gloved hand.
"Dressing up the replacement to look like the real thing."
I channeled every ounce of my mother’s terrified resilience and my sister’s calculated ice.
"I assure you, Alexei," I said, pitching my voice to match the arrogant tone I imagined Elena would use.
"I am far more real than the cowardly deals you tried to make in the dark."
Alexei flinched, genuinely unsettled by the uncanny resemblance.
"You brought her to hand her over," Alexei demanded, looking at Dante.
"That was the arrangement."
"I brought her so she could watch you die," Dante corrected, his voice a low, lethal purr.
Alexei laughed, a sharp, barking sound that echoed off the metal containers.
"You are outnumbered, Dante."
"My snipers have had laser sights on your chest since you stepped out of the car."
"Look closer," Dante suggested, a dark, terrifying smile curving his lips.
Alexei frowned, raising a hand to signal his hidden men.
Nothing happened.
The silence of the shipyard remained unbroken by gunfire.
"Your snipers have been sleeping at the bottom of the bay for the last ten minutes," Dante informed him casually.
"Marco is very thorough."
Panic flashed across Alexei’s face as he realized he had walked directly into the dragon’s jaws.
"Kill them!" Alexei screamed at his guards, pulling a weapon from his own coat.
Before Alexei’s men could even raise their rifles, the shadows of the shipping containers exploded to life.
Dante’s hidden soldiers opened fire from a 360-degree perimeter.
Dante grabbed my shoulder, throwing me behind a rusted steel beam as the clearing erupted into chaos.
Deafening gunfire shattered the night, mixing with the screams of dying men and the metallic ping of bullets hitting steel.
I huddled behind the cover, my hands covering my ears, praying for it to end.
Through the smoke and the falling snow, I saw Dante moving like a phantom.
He dispatched three men with terrifying efficiency, his every movement calculated and merciless.
Suddenly, a wounded Russian guard stumbled around the corner of my hiding spot, his gun raised erratically toward my face.
Time slowed down to a crawl.
I reached for my thigh, my fingers closing around the pearl-handled Derringer Rosa had given me.
I pulled it free, aimed blindly at the man's chest, and pulled the trigger.
The recoil snapped my wrist back, and the guard collapsed into the snow, lifeless.
I dropped the gun, gasping for air, staring in horror at what I had just done.
The gunfire abruptly ceased, leaving an eerie, ringing silence in its wake.
Dante materialized from the smoke, covered in blood that was not his own, his eyes wide with panic until he saw I was safe.
He kicked the dead guard's weapon away and pulled me into his chest, burying his face in my hair.
May you like
"It is over," he breathed against my ear.
Alexei Volkov was dead in the snow, and the ghosts of the past were finally laid to rest.
