Page 137 of The Bratva Sinner

“We’re meeting with the supplier in Little Havana at three, then going to the club to review the new security rotation.” I sip my coffee. “I’ll be close. If anything happens, I can be there in thirty minutes.”

We leave the house and start our usual rounds.

I get a text from Cinder at two-forty.

We’re here. All good. Women are nervous but listening. Lila’s doing well.

I exhale.Keep me posted.

Will do.

An hour later, I’m sitting in my office at the club reviewing the security rotation when my phone rings.

“Maksim. It's one of the men at the Coral Gables house. "We were attacked. Multiple shooters. Front and back. They came through the front door before we could react. They had to have been watching the rotation — they knew exactly when to hit.”

I hear more gunfire, and the line goes dead.

I’m on my feet and moving. I’m shouting at Damien, who’s coming down the hall toward me with his phone in his hand and his face ashen.

“They hit the Coral Gables,” he says.

“I know. Get the car. Get everyone. Now.”

We’re in the SUV in less than a minute. Sampson drives. I’m in the back with Damien. My phone is in my hand, and I’m calling every number I have for that house. No one answers. Lila and Cinder aren’t answering. The guard who called me isn’t answering.

My heart races. I’m kicking myself. I should have known it was too quiet.

The house is in chaos when we pull up. Police cars. Ambulances. Yellow tape. Neighbors standing in their yards with their phones out. I shove through the crowd without slowing down. A cop tries to stop me, but I don’t even look at him. Damien handles it. I hear his voice behind me. I’m through the tape and moving toward the front door.

The door is off its hinges. There are bullet holes in the frame, and the walls inside are pocked with them. The floor is soaked with blood. The medical examiner is there, zipping up a body bag.

I find Cinder sitting on the back steps of the house, with a paramedic kneeling in front of her. She’s got a bandage on her arm and blood on her shirt. Her face is white. Her eyes are red.

She looks up when she sees me, and something in her face cracks.

“Maksim.”

“Where is she?”

She closes her eyes. Opens them. My blood runs cold.

“They took her,” she whispers.

A choked sound escapes my throat. I can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Cinder sobs. “Oh God, Maksim. I’m sorry.”

I don’t believe it. There’s no way.

“Where. Is. She. Cinder.”

“They took her.” Her voice breaks on the second word. “I fought. I tried to get to her. There were too many. I couldn’t stop them.” She presses her hand against her mouth.

My knees buckle. I barely manage to sit down.

“I’m sorry, Maksim. I tried. I fought.”

I refuse to believe I lost her.