Page 48 of Forced By the Bratva King

“Pakhan’sorders, ma’am—”

“Well, I’m thePakhan’swife, and disobeying a direct order from me is equivalent to disobeying your boss, and you know what the consequences of that are—so let’s try this again; take me to my husband. Right now.” The words exploded from my lips like a commandment, my voice firm and authoritative, leaving no room for debate or defiance as I stepped closer to him with each word.

He knew that I wasn’t messing around, and the seriousness in my tone left him with no choice.

“Okay, ma’am, come with me.” He led the way, and I followed.

We stepped out of the house, and he signaled a couple more men. “You, you, and you. You’re coming with us.”

They looked at him awkwardly, and I knew it was because of me. My husband had made it pretty clear that no one was allowed to come in or leave the compound without his permission.

“But…” one of them attempted to defy.

“No buts. Now, get your butts in the car!” he ordered them, being superior in rank.

They obeyed instantly, and he helped me into the backseat of a black SUV where two of the other men joined me—one on each side. He got into the driver’s seat and drove away.

All through the drive, I was hoping that I wouldn’t be late; if only I could get there in the nick of time, I might end up stopping a catastrophe.

The vehicle was at high speed, and in no time, we got to a warehouse, and from the corpses littered outside, I could tell that those were Niall’s men. Artem had indeed brought the war to the Irish.

The car came to a halt at the entrance, and I dashed out of the vehicle, rushing inside.

“Ma’am, wait!” The driver ran in after me, and so did the others.

My eyes widened when I saw my husband holding a gun to my father’s head. Niall looked like he’d been beaten up; his face was swollen, and blood was trickling down his nose. He seemed weak and was at the mercy of my husband, who was still boiling with rage.

Yuri had Jacob at gunpoint a few paces away, and around them was a sea of dead bodies that made me nauseous, but that was the least of my problems right now.

“This is for attacking my wife,” Artem said to Niall, cocking his gun, ready to pull the trigger.

“No, don’t!” I screamed, running to intervene, arms spread as I stood between them.

“What’re you doing here?” Artem was shocked to see me, but more shocked that I was literally standing in his way. “What is she doing here?” He yelled at the men who had brought me.

“It’s not their fault. I forced them,” I said to him, taking the blame.

“Sierra, move!” Artem hollered, tightening his grip around the gun pointed at me. “Get outta my way!”

“Listen to him, Sierra,” Niall said, his voice faint and weak.

“No,” I said with finality, staring at my husband.

He squinted at me in surprise, puzzled by my defiance.

“He didn’t do it, Artem. Niall didn’t send that assassin,” I said.

“Wh…what makes you so sure?” he asked, eager to hear my response.

I turned to face Niall, and he shook his head.

“No, don’t. Don’t do it,” he said softly.

Artem was losing his patience, and I could see his rage shimmering just below the surface, its focus increasingly directed at me. “Sierra, don’t make me ask you again; what makes you so sure that it wasn’t him?”

Niall was still shaking his head at me.

“Answer me, goddamn it!” Artem snarled at me.