Chapter 20: Artem

I was the one at the wheel this time, driving at super speed and allowing rage to fuel my thoughts. Yuri was in the front passenger seat, cocking and double checking his gun. He'd wanted to drive as usual, but I was too mad to let him; it was almost like he wouldn't drive at the speed that I wanted.

Through the side mirror, I could see the other vehicles speed up behind me; my men were ready for this war, and for Donovan's sake, I hoped that he was, as well. I'd hate to kill a defenseless man, but either way, he was already dead.

Like a bullet from a gun, my car burst through the door, knocking it down completely as we invaded Donovan's warehouse, the Irish hideout. I'd known about their location for a long time now but had decided not to ambush them, even though none of this would have happened if I had done this earlier. Countless times, I'd had the chance to kill that bastard but didn't.

No more mercy. He wasn't going to get away with this one.

Our ambush stirred up heavy gunfire as the enemies, caught off guard, attempted a defense against our attack. Cars screeched to a halt, and my men alighted like commandos from a Hollywood movie.

Gunshots filled the air, and bodies dropped at the pelting bullets that knocked down anyone and anything in the paths.

I stepped out of the vehicle amidst the chaos, fuming profusely as my men slaughtered the Irish. I saw Donovan hiding behind a flipped-over table. Coward.

An idiot attacked me, shooting in my direction, but with lightning speed, I dodged his bullets and watched him marvel at how it was possible. His eyes widened with fear as I approached him now that his gun was clicking empty. I thought he'd be smart enough to run, considering how angry I was, but then again, he was fucking Irish, a mindless animal. The idiot lunged at me with a series of punches, his hands a rapid blur of movements, all of which I deflected. Retaliating with an uppercut and a blow underneath his jaw, the attacker rose into the air and crashed onto a wooden table, which broke under his weight.

I heard a battle cry behind me, and without turning, I sidestepped, avoiding the machete meant for the back of my skull. This other Irishman swung his weapon a couple of times before I trapped his hand in mine and snapped it like a dry log. He screamed in pain, and I swung him across the space.

Another came at me, but Yuri gunned him down before he could make any advances. Yuri nodded at me and returned to killing those bastards.

"Donovan!" I called out, my voice loud and threatening, filled with rage. "Come out and face me, you son of a bitch!" I walked toward the table he was hiding behind, balling one hand into a fist with my gun in the other.

Jacob rushed at me from the side, but Yuri speared into him, their bodies colliding mid-air before they both crashed to the ground. Soon, blows and kicks were exchanged as Yuri kept him busy while I dealt with his boss.

"What's the meaning of this, Artem Tarasov?" Donovan stepped out from his hiding place, confusion coloring his eyes as he watched my men lay waste to his people.

I was tempted to just shoot the fucker in the face, but not yet. I wanted to make him suffer first.

Tucking my gun away, I came at him with blows—heavy blows that he couldn't dodge. My fists rammed into his face without leaving any room for retaliation. Each strike pushed him at least one step backward. The impact of my knuckles against his skin and his bones caused him to bleed.

He attempted to fight back, but my blows had disoriented him already, and now he wasn't focused enough to throw a single punch. Yet, I wouldn't stop throwing mine, and unlike him, I wouldn't miss.

Both of my knuckles were covered in his blood, and the thoughts of what would have happened to my wife if I had arrived a minute later fueled my anger.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his head up, bashing my knee against his nose a couple of times before flinging him off like a rat.

He crashed onto the dusty floor, too weak to stand as he coughed, wheezing and straining to breathe. By now, the shootings had stopped, and my men had completely taken over. A lot of his men were dead, but the remaining ones were smart enough to surrender.

"How does it feel to be powerless?" I walked over to him as he dragged himself toward a gun lying a couple of paces away from him.

He grabbed the gun, but I stepped on his hand before he could use it, my boots crushing his fingers. Niall wailed, revealing the blood that filled his mouth, painting his teeth red.

"Why?" he asked, looking up at me. "Why do this?"

I squatted over him. "Because you attacked my wife. My wife, Donovan!" I trampled upon his face and kicked his chest, his stomach, his legs, and anywhere my foot could hit.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Artem," he groaned, spitting out blood.

"Have the decency to fess up," I said, frowning at his cowardice. "You fucked up, Donovan—you fucked up when you sent an assassin to kill my wife." I withdrew my gun and pointed it at him. "I can't look the other way when you clearly have no boundaries."

"I swear, I don't know what you're talking about!" he yelled with the little strength left in him.

"Lies!" I replied with the same tone, cocking the gun.

"We saw the tattoo on the assassin's neck. We know it was you," Yuri chilled in.

Donovan really seemed like he had no idea what was going on, but I didn't care.

"This is for attacking my wife." I almost pulled the trigger.

"No, don't!"

The voice sounded a lot like my wife's but what the hell was she doing here?

I turned in her direction, and there she was, taking gentle steps forward with impossibly wide eyes.

**********

I couldn't believe my ears when she revealed her identity, and now thousands of thoughts were tugging at my mind. This was another level of betrayal, tearing through my insides and ravaging me. As I stood, trying to process this, her words kept echoing in my head.

"Answer me, goddammit!"

"Because he's my father! Niall Donovan is my father…."

"This can't be happening." I thumped the side of my fist against my forehead with the gun still in my grasp.

"Artem, I know what you're thinking now, but I swear to you, it's not that at all," she said, her eyes all teary with her hands raised delicately in surrender.

"How can you possibly know what I'm thinking?" I thundered.

Sierra flinched at the sound of my voice, and her eyes shut reflexively, giving way to the tears underneath. "I'm sorry?" Her tone was barely a whisper.

"You're sorry ?" I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "For what exactly? Betraying my trust, lying to me, or carrying my fucking child when you knew all along who your father was?"

All at once, her body coiled, and she clenched her fists as she glared at me.

"Well, you didn't exactly give me a choice now, did you?" she snapped, losing her temper. "I witnessed what I never should have, and you were kind enough to spare my life—even though you forced me into marrying you—"

"You could've told me, Sierra!" I cut her off, feeling the rage seeping into my bones.

"And what would you have done if I had?" she questioned. "Would you have still let me live knowing that I was the daughter of your worst enemy?" She was speaking and crying at the same time, her voice shuddering and her lips trembling.

"And so you chose to lie to me?" I stepped forward, locking eyes with her so she'd see the damage her betrayal had done.

"I…I didn't lie," she stuttered. "I simply withheld the truth from you—but with good reason. I swear, I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid, especially since I found out that I was pregnant."

"Don't fucking use my baby as an excuse." I halted in front of her. "This was planned, wasn't it?"

Her eyes widened even further. "What?"

"You've been his spy all this time, isn't that right?" I walked past her.

"What, no!" She sniffled, turning in my direction as I stood over her father. "That's not it, I swear."

"It makes sense now." I snickered, looking down at Donovan. "You orchestrated this whole thing; you knew I'd be at the club that evening, so you planted your spy there. You wanted this to happen so you'd be two steps ahead of me."

"Artem, no, you're taking this too far, and you're wrong!" she insisted, and those tears wouldn't stop flowing.

"You're his spy, admit it!" I hollered.

"No, I am not!" she hollered back.

"He couldn't get past our cybersecurity—couldn't have access to our database—so he sent you to get the job done," I spat the words at her.

On a sob, she choked out, "Artem, this is madness!"

" Madness? " I pointed my gun at Donovan. "I'll show you what madness really is."

"What…what're you doing?" She stepped forward, her voice low and fearful.

"You have until the count of three to admit that you're his spy, or else I'll put a fucking bullet in his head while you watch. I'll show you that I'm the monster that you've always thought I was." My lips pulled into a frown, mirroring the seriousness of my words.

"Artem, please, don't do this," she begged, weeping uncontrollably as she inched forward.

She had her palm pressed against her stomach, and she seemed to be in some kind of pain, wincing with each step, but I ignored her.

"One!" I said, my gaze fixed on her and my gun aimed at Donovan's skull.

"Artem, please, I'm begging you!"

"It's okay, sweetheart," her father muttered, blood dribbling down his swollen lip.

Donovan's words infuriated me all the more, especially with that hypocritical fatherly look on his face.

Sierra was speechless, trembling at this situation as she shook her head with her palms clasped together. She was pleading with both her hands and her eyes.

"Two!" I got ready to pull the trigger.

That instant, she screamed, and her hands flew to her stomach.

At first, I thought it was some sort of ploy to distract me, but she seemed to be truly in pain. She dropped to her knees, pressing her hands against her stomach with a deep groan.

Shit!

It took everything in me to lower my gun and rush over to her. Despite my anger, she still was carrying my baby, the heir to the Bratva. I squatted over her, and she was rolling in pain, eyes squeezed shut and forehead beaded with sweat.

"Don't just stand there! Take her to the fucking hospital!" Donovan yelled at me.

It was clear to me that he loved his daughter and that he hadn't ordered the attack on her life, but that wasn't my concern at the moment; Sierra's deception was.