Page 44 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan

My vision blurs at the edges. The adrenaline that kept me moving through the firefight is fading, leaving behind the reality of significant blood loss and shock threatening to pull me under.

“We need to move,” I manage, though my voice sounds wrong even to my own ears. “Kravin’s men might have called for backup.”

“You can barely stand!” Serena’s uninjured hand presses against my wound instinctively, and the pressure makes me hiss through my teeth. “We need to get you help.”

“Viktor,” I call into my comm, the word slurring slightly. “Warehouse secure?”

Static, then his voice:“Affirmative. All hostiles down. Sir, I heard shots.”

“]Serena’s safe.” I sway slightly despite efforts to stay steady. “I’m hit. Left shoulder, through and through. Need immediate extraction.”

“On our way.”

I try to take a step toward the exit and nearly go down. Only Serena’s surprising strength—her good hand gripping my tactical vest, her body braced against mine—keeps me upright.

“Don’t you dare pass out,” she says fiercely, her face close to mine. “Don’t you dare use getting shot as an excuse to leave me alone in this warehouse.”

“Not passing out,” I lie, though the world is tilting dangerously. “Just… need a minute.”

“You don’t have a minute. You’re bleeding everywhere.”

She’s right. The concrete beneath us is slick with blood, spreading in a pool that’s growing larger by the second. My heartbeat sounds too loud in my ears, and the warehouse keeps trying to spin despite my best efforts to focus.

Viktor appears through the haze, his expression shifting from tactical assessment to genuine alarm when he sees the blood.

“Get a medic,” he barks to someone behind him. “Now!”

“I can walk,” I insist, though when I try to prove it my legs buckle.

Viktor catches me before I hit the floor, and Serena’s there too, both of them supporting my weight as darkness creeps in from the edges of my vision.

The last thing I register before consciousness slips away is movement. I turn to see Kravin, somehow still alive, slipping away.

“Stay with me, Pavel. Please. Just stay with me.”

Then nothing.

Chapter Seventeen - Serena

The hallway outside the medical room is too quiet. I can hear everything—the ticking clock on the wall, the distant murmur of voices from somewhere in the mansion, my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. My hands twist together in my lap, the movement making my broken finger throb, but I can’t seem to stop.

The blood on my palms has dried dark and sticky. Pavel’s blood, mixed with mine from my own injuries. I should wash it off. Should let someone treat the cuts on my shoulder and arm, should get ice for the swelling in my hand.

Instead I just sit here, replaying the moment over and over with vivid, sickening clarity.

The sound of the gunshot. Pavel’s body jerking from the impact. The way he stayed standing despite the bullet tearing through his shoulder, turning to look at me with those steel-gray eyes.

“Mrs. Rudenko?”

I look up to find Maria standing there with a first aid kit and a glass of water I don’t remember asking for. Her expression is gentle, concerned in a way that makes my eyes prick with unexpected tears.

“You should let me clean those wounds,” she says quietly, gesturing to my shoulder. “Dr. Belov is still working on Mr. Rudenko, but your injuries need attention too.”

“I’m fine.” The automatic response comes out rougher than intended. “How long has he been in there?”

“Nearly an hour.” Maria sets down the supplies anyway, clearly not deterred by my refusal. “Dr. Belov said the surgeryis going well. The bullet went clean through, no major vessels damaged.”

Surgery. The word makes my stomach drop despite the reassurance that follows.