Ruthless Mafia King: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance
Ruthless Mafia King: Chapter 41

As luck would have it, there aren’t many unmarked white vans on the road we’re on.

I signal to Ivan to follow the one just a few cars ahead of us. He doesn’t need to worry about getting too close. We want them to know we’re onto them.

He nods, and the chase is on.

“We have to find out who they are,” I tell him. “Push them off the road. Bring them to a stop. Do whatever you have to.”

“On it,” Ivan replies with a wicked grin.

He’s enjoying this.

As he accelerates, I take a moment to wipe my hands against my pants. They’re covered with Igor’s blood.

Will he live or die? He was trying to tell me something. Or ask for help. I get a nasty feeling in my stomach that he was more or less conscious of what was happening around him.

“Here we go,” Ivan mutters, bringing our car’s front bumper straight up to the van’s back. Our other cars move to the sides, caging the van in.

We swerve left and right, pressing them to see who or what will break first—his concentration or the vehicle. The driver hits the gas even more, and Ivan’s brows furrow.

“Grab a hold, boys,” I warn our men in the back.

Suddenly, the van breaks to the side of the road, pushing against one of our cars. Ivan does his best to maintain control, swerving a little to the left. I brace myself for the crash. There isn’t time to turn. No time to change plans. All we can do is hope that whoever’s steering the van doesn’t get us all killed.

I need him alive.

I want answers.

The adrenaline pumps violently through my veins, heightening my senses. I clutch my hands into fists.

“Come on!” I yell, my rage taking over. “Let’s finish this!”

Fight or flight.

An animalistic roar rips from my throat.

Despite our best efforts to surround the van from all sides, the vehicle manages to speed up even more. With a jerk, the driver yanks it to the right, crashing against one of ours. The speed and impact cause a disaster.

My men’s screams can be heard above the clamor of everything crumbling down.

Metal crushing against metal.

Broken glass fills the air.

Tires screeching.

Men yelling.

And suddenly, we’re flying.

It’s not like the movies when everything slows down. But it does seem as if our movements are slowed.

The car rolls twice before crashing against an electrical post, sending sparks everywhere. We’re thrown around like ragdolls.

I knock my head against the dashboard. A gash opens on my forehead, and the taste of metal fills my mouth. My ears are filled with the sound of my men roaring.

The car stops so suddenly that it almost seems like it landed on a runway. Every muscle in my body is tied up in knots, tense, and screaming.

But this is my mess, and it’s up to me to fix it.

I shove the dizzy feeling away, grunting with effort. I push my shoulder against the door. Eventually, it opens, and I climb out of the wreckage. My legs wobble beneath me, but I manage to stay on my feet.

“Nik,” Ivan whispers behind me. “Are you alright?”

It takes me two tries to turn my head to the side to look at him. If he’s straining for words, then my tongue is on total strike. But I’m ready to get moving. The need to find whoever was in the van spurs me forward, despite my limbs wailing in protest.

“I’m coming,” Ivan says, and motions for me to wait for him. My steps falter, but when my eyes take in the dead bodies of my men, I gain a second wind. Anger pushes through the fog in my mind.

I press hard, and the guy in the windowless white van is standing in front of me. It takes me a moment, but recognition sets in.

“Fedot?” I force out, spitting blood as I speak. “What the fuck?”

He snickers. There’s a smug look on his face, one I itch to rid him of. My entire body’s hurting, and I’m barely standing. I thought I took care of Olenko. I was sure he understood my message.

“Did you really think you could insult and threaten my family without consequences?” Fedot demands, clutching his bruised ribs. The crash took a toll on him too. “I might’ve been forced to take your shit in your office, but not anymore. My father’s a weak bastard who’s eager to bow to others. I’m done following his lead. My time has come!”

“What did you hope to achieve with this?” I ask in disbelief.

“I wanted Dimitri to see that we’re more powerful allies than you,” he snarls. “If we took care of the Gargarins, you’d be useless to him. He’d be happy to give me Katarina.”

I tip my head back and roar with laughter. I have no doubt I look insane. I’m not only covered in Igor’s blood, but blood is dripping down my face from the gash on my forehead.

But adrenaline is pumping strongly. I’m a wild and dangerous beast, and Fedot doesn’t yet know he’s my prey.

“Katarina will never be yours,” I say. “She agreed to marry me. In fact, she’s carrying my baby.”

“You’re lying,” he spits.

I shake my head and then quickly stop. The movement is making me dizzy, and I can’t afford to lose control now.

“You’re a weak pretender. You’re a little kid who wants to play in the big leagues. Guess what? You’ll never be good enough to be one of us. Even if she weren’t mine, Katarina would never want you. You’re too pathetic,” I tell him.

Fedot growls, narrowing his eyes at me. “How could she ever love a bastard like you?”

I shrug. “Because I’m better than you’ll ever be.”

Fedot howls and charges at me. I brace my body for impact, shifting aside to use his force against him. He curses and tries to shift his momentum, but I throw an arm around his shoulders, keeping him pressed on me. I hit him in the chest, and he crashes hard onto the ground. I roll on top of him and bang his head against the pavement.

He pushes me off him, his anger giving him strength.

We’re both battered and bruised. Bleeding and throbbing.

But hate burns stronger than pain.

I have more to fight for.

He roars, running toward me again. This time, I don’t wait for him to reach me. Instead, I meet him halfway. It’s time to stop playing around and finish this once and for all. His attempt at humiliating me by trying to take my family has backfired. Now I get to decide how to end this.

How to end him.

And I can’t wait to do it.

Rage fuels my actions, giving me more stamina. Fedot doesn’t see it coming, unprepared for someone like me, who fights dirty.

I wait until the last possible second to bend, and I catch him in the ribs with my shoulder. We fall and roll down the hill, spinning out of control. He reaches out to grab something to steady himself, but I yank his hand out of the way.

While he’s taking his time to figure out which way is up, I close the gap between us.

I pull my gun from its holster and fire at his feet. He freezes, still trying to find purchase on the icy ground.

“Shoot me!” he screams.

I grin, showing him my blood-covered teeth. The look in my eyes is manic.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head,” I snarl at him. “I will.”

I aim and pull the trigger.

Fedot’s head jerks back. I made it painless and quick, though he didn’t deserve it.

“Nikolai!” Ivan roars, standing at the top of the hill, two long wooden sticks under his arms to use as support. It’s only then that I realize his right leg is broken. In fact, my entire body is starting to ache in places I didn’t know I could feel pain as I start to walk toward him.

“I’m fine,” I reassure him, but my smile fades when I see his grim face. “The others?”

“Fourteen dead,” Ivan replies, and nods at Fedot’s lifeless body. “Fifteen if you count him.”

“Sixteen if Igor doesn’t make it,” I mutter, and close my eyes for a moment.

I inhale deeply, needing to ground myself.

This isn’t over. As far as we know, all of the Gargarins are still very much alive and set on revenge.

“We should take care of our dead,” Ivan says, getting my full attention. “And then we should go home to reassess.”

“Yes,” I confirm. “Let’s do that.”