Page 126 of Betrayal and Vows

I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m not sticking around to find out.

Dmitri and I run for the same exit I carried Lena to.

She’s moved herself down the hall, leaving a trail of blood on the pristine floor.

I lift Lena in my arms, holding her close, shielding her with my body. She whimpers in pain but doesn’t fight me. Her blood soaks my shirt.

“This way,” Dmitri barks.

“Stay with me,” I whisper to Lena.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmurs, voice weak. “Not without you.”

Bullets ping off stone as Dmitri leads us through the side exit. The halls are narrow and littered with overturned flower arrangements and stunned wedding guests.

And then?—

Elena.

She’s standing there, silver pistol raised. Her blue gown is speckled with blood. Her eyes are wide, calculating.

I freeze.

Dmitri raises his weapon. “Move.”

She doesn’t.

“Mom,” Lena croaks.

Elena’s eyes flick to her. Her hand trembles.

“Let us go,” I say. “She needs help.”

“You’ll destroy everything.” Elena looks at her daughter in my arms. “He’ll hunt you.”

“Fuck him,” I snap. “I’ll keep her safe. She doesn’t need him. Or you. None of you.”

The gunfire behind us has stopped. I can hear Mikhail's voice raised in fury, arguing with Vadim. Their words echo down the hallway.

Father and son are fighting.

That works to our advantage. With them focused on each other, they aren’t thinking about us.

Elena keeps her gun trained on me, her hand remarkably steady. Her eyes dart between Lena and me. Would she risk shooting me and hitting her own daughter?

"What's your plan?" Elena demands, her voice holding a hint of fear. "Where will you take her?"

"None of your fucking business," I growl, adjusting my grip on Lena. Her blood is warm against my chest, seeping through my shirt. My abused muscles are screaming for relief. "Don't make me kill you. I'll put down anyone who gets between me and her safety."

"Anton, please," Lena whispers, her voice breaking. "Mom, please. Let me go. I can't—I won't survive this marriage. You know what he is."

Elena's composure cracks. For a moment, she's not the ice queen of the Bratva—she's just a mother watching her daughter bleed in another man's arms.

"He'll come for you," she says quietly. "Both of them will. There's nowhere you can hide that they won't find you."

"Then I'll kill them too." The words come out flat. It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.

Elena stares at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, she lowers the gun.