Merciless Union by Faith Summers
43
Aria
Idon’t like leaving him like this. Not when he’s in so much pain.
I’ve just packed my bag to go to Aiden’s house, where I’ll stay until it’s safe to come back.
Today is my birthday. I was hoping things might have worked out by now. I at least wanted to wake up in my husband’s arms, but he wasn’t next to me when I awoke.
I walk out to the courtyard, where Lucca sits amongst the roses. He’s smoking a Cuban cigar.
I’ve never seen him smoke before.
I walk out there, and he puts it out straight away. There are bags under his eyes and dark circles. I don’t even think he went to bed last night.
“Sorry. It’s not a habit,” he apologizes quickly. “I just do it when I’m stressed. I promise I won’t do it in front of the kids.”
“Kids?”
He gives me a weak smile. “We need at least two. A boy and girl or whatever we’re blessed with.”
I nod, loving the idea and wishing for it. “That sounds like a plan.”
He reaches over to the brightest red rose and picks it.
He hands it to me, and when he lowers to kiss me, I remember the kiss he gave me on my tenth birthday.
“A kiss for my girl and the brightest rose from my mother’s garden, in the Court of Blood and Thorns. Happy birthday Aria Dyshekov.”
“Thank you.” I take the rose and smell it. The fragrance tickles my nose.
“We’ll celebrate properly as soon as we can.”
“Be careful, Lucca. Please be careful and come back to me.”
“I love you, so I will try,” he promises.
“I love you too.”
He nods, and we kiss again. When he moves away from my lips, he does the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen him do. He lowers to kiss my stomach and lingers there.
“Mine,” he whispers, and I can’t believe I was ever worried about telling him about the baby.
He rises when one of the guards beckons to us, letting us know that it’s time to go.
It’s one of the new guys I don’t recognize.
I wish Alexei was taking me to Aiden’s, or better yet, that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“You’ll be okay,” Lucca says, and I leave.
I look back once I get to the door and wave.
He waves back, and then I go through the door, following the guard.
The other guard ahead has my bags. I didn’t pack much, but I didn’t pack light either, just in case I needed to stay for a few nights. No one really knows what’s going to happen.
The guards usher me to the Bugatti I came home from the hospital in.
Three guards climb in. One in the back with me and two at the front, and as the car drives away, my heart aches for Lucca.
Once we get through the gates and onto the road, nerves start to creep back in, and I bring my hands together to keep them from shaking.
The guard in the passenger seat glances at me in the rearview mirror, offering a kind smile.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Dyshekov. We’ll have you back home soon,” he says with a deep Russian accent.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“You know, it’s not wise to make promises you can’t keep,” the driver says, and before I can think of how rude and mean he is to say such a thing, he pulls out a gun and shoots the guard who spoke to me.
I scream as blood splashes everywhere, and the man next to me grabs my arm. My throat closes as he reaches for his gun and presses it to my temple with a big smile plastered on his face.
I look from him to the mirror, where I can see the gruesome gaping hole where the guard was shot right between his eyes.
He never even had a chance to shout from the pain that must have caused. He just died instantly. His lifeless body crumbles in the chair with blood pumping from the wound, and the man who shot him does nothing but keep his eyes on the road ahead, even though blood is all over him.
The sight before me is so horrific my stomach flips, and my brain scrambles before I clock what’s actually happening.
These men… they couldn’t really be working for Lucca if they did this.
“Who are you working for?” I manage in a quivering voice.
“You’re a clever one. That’s the right question to ask, Mrs. Dyshekov,” the driver taunts. He turns to look at me even though I can see him in the mirror. “We work for Pasha. A man like him would never be foolish enough to call out all his men and leave none behind to assess a situation. That’s us. We stay behind to blend in, observe, and strike when we’re given the order to. That is exactly what we’re doing now, and no one will know until it’s too late.”
Oh my God. This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.
“You won’t get away with this,” I snarl, trying to calm my racing heart.
“But we already have. Your husband’s problem in this situation is he was just too careful. Levka here offered to take you all by himself,” he says, looking at the demise of the man he just shot. “But because Nikoli and I were Grigori’s personal guards who were always loyal to him, Lucca insisted that his wife be accompanied by the best. He never knew that we were Grigori’s guards because Pasha hired us to be. I would suggest you keep quiet and enjoy the ride, Mrs. Dyshekov. We’ve been told to bring you back alive. There are many ways of hurting you and keeping you alive just long enough to fulfill that order. I don’t think you’d like to do anything too soon to harm your unborn child.”
He laughs, and my heart sinks between my feet. The weight of what’s happening settles over me, and my brain shuts down.
They have me again.
I’ve been captured again.
The only reason Pasha could want me is the same as Dad.
The company.
This is about that, and I’ve run out of time. It’s my birthday. The time for safety is over.
They are right. They have gotten away with it. If Lucca thinks I’m safe with the best people, it will be too late when he finds out something is wrong.
