Page 144 of Secret Heir

Time slows to a crawl. I see Alexander’s arm extend and the barrel of the gun is aimed directly at me.

His face twists with pure rage. “The lying bitch destroyed everything!” he screams.

The gunshot is impossibly loud in the enclosed space and I make sure to stare at Alexander in the eye, waiting for the bullet to pierce my flesh.

But I don’t feel pain because Maksim is suddenly there. He throws himself between me and the bullet.

His body jerks violently as the round hits him.

I scream.

21

MAKSIM

The pain is instantaneous and overwhelming.

Fire explodes through my left shoulder and I curse. It’s the same shoulder that was torn apart by shrapnel from the car bomb. The impact spins me backward, and I’m falling, taking Aria down with me.

We hit the floor hard. My body covers hers instinctively, even as agony rips through my shoulder and ribs. Blood spreads hot and fast across my chest, soaking through my shirt.

Aria is screaming. Her hands are on my face, and in my hair, trying to pull me up.

Above us, chaos erupts. There’s gunfire and shouting along with the sound of boots as guards swarm Alexander.

“Get him down! Get the gun!”

More shots. I hear Alexander screaming and cursing in Russian and English, his voice rising to a shriek as Nikolai’s men beat him to the ground.

But I don’t care about Alexander right now. All I care about is the woman beneath me, protected by my body.

“Aria,” I say breathlessly. “Are you hurt? The baby⁠—”

“Am I hurt?” she asks incredulously. “You just took a fucking bullet! You’re bleeding! God, there’s so much blood⁠—”

I push myself up slightly, ignoring the white-hot agony that lances through my shoulder. I need to confirm she’s okay.

Her face is pale and tear-streaked, but mercifully she’s unharmed. I let my hand drop to her stomach. There’s no blood or injury.

“You’re okay,” I breathe, relief lancing through me. “Baby’s okay?”

If looks could kill, I would be six feet under.

“I’m fine! The baby’s fine! But you—” Her hands press against my shoulder and I hiss through my teeth as pain explodes. “Don’t you dare die on me, Maksim Sokolov!”

“Not dying.” I manage something that might be a smile. “Takes more than one bullet to kill me.”

“You jumped in front of a gun!” she shouts, her hands moving quickly as she tries to put pressure on the wound. “You’re such an idiot! A colossal fucking idiot!”

I probably deserve that. “I’m an idiot who loves you and our children more than his own life.” The words come out rough and strained with pain, but I mean every syllable.

Around us, four guards have Alexander face-down on the floor while a fifth presses a boot to the back of his neck. Blood streams from Alexander’s nose and mouth. Someone hit him hard.

Good.

“Clear the weapon!” Dmitri is shouting, kicking the gun across the floor to where Pavel secures it. “Secure the prisoner!”

Nikolai is on his feet, his face a mask of cold fury. “Search him,” he snarls. “Strip him completely. I want every inch of his body checked for additional weapons.”