Page 47 of Forced By the Bratva King
“What do you think?” My brows knitted in anger. “He’s shot his shot. Now it’smyturn, and unlike him, I don’t shoot to miss.”
Sierra looked terrified of me and what I would do next, but I had to put that fucker down for good. For her sake.
“They came intomyhouse, killedmymen, and attempted to killmywife.” The rage swelling up inside me was affecting my breathing, making it ragged. “Gather everyone. We’re going to war.”
Yuri nodded and took out his phone.
Sierra stepped forward. “Artem, listen to me….”
“Sierra, stay out of this,” I cut her off. “I’ve always known Donovan was a mindless animal, but this…” I shook my head contemptuously, “... attacking my wife in my house—he went too far, and I’m gonna retaliate. I will kill every last one of them. I swear.” I walked away from her, my resolve the only thing I could focus on. “That bastard is a dead man walking.”
Chapter 19 – Sierra
No, no, no, no…! This isn’t happening.
I paced around the bedroom, absentmindedly chewing on my fingernails as I thought about what a great disaster this was.
Artem had been so furious when he left, and he’d made it clear that he was going to war with the Irish.
His words echoed in my head:That bastard is a dead man walking.
I wasn’t close to my dad, but I knew that there was no way in hell that he would jeopardize my safety. The masked man had tried to kill me, meaning thatIhad been the prime target. My father wouldn’t send an assassin after my life, no matter how mad he was.
The fact that I was married to his archnemesis had pissed him off, but he would never—not in a million years—react like this.
This only meant one thing: There was someone else in the picture, a third party who was secretly pulling the strings. Whoever was behind the attack on my life clearly wanted it to look like the Irish were behind it. If the assassin had succeeded in killing me, Artem would mobilize his men, and both gangs would clash in a heated battle that would potentially leave many if not all of them dead.
This third party was trying to turn them on each other. This was all part of someone’s plan, but they both couldn’t see it. My husband was too angry to even listen to me, and for the first time in a long time, he was choosing to go on the offensive. Artem, from what I’d gathered from his men, was a great leader who always calculated his next three moves before making them. It was said that he was never irrational in his actions; he always was patient enough to come up with strategic plans.
But the man, the leader they described, wasn’t the same one I saw a minute ago. Artem was red with anger, and I had never seen him in that state before. His voice was thick, his body was shaking, and in his cold eyes, I saw the monster I’d always thought he was. It was so scary because I couldn’t recognize him anymore. His mind was made up, and he was going to kill Niall Donovan, regardless of whatever anyone said.
Artem wasn’t thinking straight. His emotions had clouded his judgment, getting the better of him. This was a wrong move—a very reckless one—but how could I have convinced him otherwise?
I couldn’t let my father and my husband kill each other over something that wasn’t either of their faults. They were just pawns in someone else’s games, and right now, Artem was playing his role as the plotter of this script had planned it.
I had to do something. I had to intervene, but how was I supposed to do so without exposing the secret that I’d been keeping from him all this time? Wouldn’t that just turn everything to a new page of violence? What was the assurance that spilling the beans would make everything better?
It’s worth a shot. It could save Niall’s life.
I ruffled my hair in confusion, vigorously scratching my scalp, as my head felt like it was on fire. There was nothing else that I could think of other than telling the truth at this moment.
I wasn’t ready to do that, and the potential aftereffects still had me terrified, but I didn’t have a choice. This was the only way, and the longer I deliberated on this, the closer Artem got to killing Niall or worse. What if neither of them survived? Then I’d lose my fatherandmy husband. I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen.
They both had a common enemy, and instead of fighting each other to the death, they should be working together to find the bastard and put him down for good.
I heaved a heavy sigh after summoning the courage I needed, and with that, I sprinted out of the room. My feet pounded over the steps as I raced down the staircase.
“Everything alright, ma'am?” one of the men Artem had left to protect me asked, his hand reaching for his gun.
“Take me to my husband,” I demanded, exercising my authority.
“I…I–I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t do that,” he stuttered, a little shocked at my request.
“You can’t do that?” I scowled at him, knitting my brows in annoyance.
“If I do that, he’ll kill me—”
“And if you don’t,Iwill,” I cut him off with a threat that I was, at that moment, willing to do.