Chapter 3 - Roman

The chaos erupted in an instant.

One moment, the casino was a haven of luxury and excitement; the next, it was a war zone. The gunshots cut through the air with brutal clarity, the noise overwhelming the murmur of the crowd. My eyes scanned the room swiftly with precision as I searched for the source of the threat, but every part of me knew already that those men were behind this long before I spotted them in the corner with their weapons pointed in my direction.

I had to act, and I had to act fast.

I move quickly; my focus is unyielding as I knock over the table to give me and the girls some cover. I don’t hesitate to take out my firearm to exchange shots. My focus is on getting the girls for safety, so the shots are meant to keep them away rather than kill them, but I still hit one right in the gut, sending him to the ground. I take the opportunity to grab the girls, Gwen first and make a run for it.

We aren’t running for more than a minute before more shots go off, and a searing pain sprouts on the side of my shoulder.

I’ve been shot before, so I know right away I’m hit, but not badly. It doesn’t even phase me, but when I see both Gwen and Riley’s faces, they’re terrified. They probably think they’ll get hit next. Gwen picks up her pace, but Riley… she sprints off into another direction entirely.

What the fuck?

I looked down at Gwen, noticing the panic and fear etched across her face. Without a second thought, my arms immediately latch around her waist, easily pulling her into them right as she is about to go after her friend. Immediately, Gwen protests, but I ignore them.

Fuck. A tightness clutches my chest as I watch Riley’s figure disappear into the crowd, knowing it will kill Gwen to leave her behind, but I have no other option. Gwen is my main priority right now. With her in my arms, I only care about getting her to safety and fast.

My car is parked in an alleyway outside. I know this casino inside and out and know that, once I burst through the crowd, I can run through the kitchen and take the exit at the back of it that’ll lead me right to my car. So that’s what I do.

I try to console Gwen as best as I can as I lead her outside, but it’s no use. She’s frantic and reasonably so. She just watched her best friend get kidnapped while a stranger whisks her away and tells her that she has to leave her behind. My heart pangs with guilt, but I have no other choice. Going after Riley would be reckless, and I couldn’t do so without knowing Gwen was safe first. And she’s not going to be safe until I take her to the one place where I know she will be, without a doubt: my penthouse.

Gwen is struggling to calm down, which leaves me no other choice as I gently yet firmly apply pressure to her neck, right atop her carotid artery. Combined with her current state of panic, it doesn’t take much pressure for her eyelids to grow droopy while I burst outside and lead her to my car. I hate having to do it, but I know there is no other choice. The last thing I want to do is draw any attention, and the best way to do so is if I calm her down immediately.

“Roman…” she draws, and out of pure instinct, her hand lifts and reaches out for me.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” I tell her. I take the hand that reaches out for mine while another brushes a hair out of her face. A stinging sensation spikes my heart as I watch her head grow heavy, and I rest my palm against her tear-stained cheek to guide her face to the seat in a comfortable position.

“You’re safe now, Moya Lyubov ,” I say. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

This time, I don’t get a response from her. All the panic has faded entirely, replaced by a sudden yet peaceful slumber. Her strangled breaths shift into an easy tune as her chest begins to rise and fall much more slowly.

I wait a few seconds, but aside from her now steady breaths, she doesn’t move. She’s sound asleep.

For a moment, I just stand there in front of the open door and watch her closely. I can’t help myself. Every part of her is so breathtakingly magnetic that I struggle to avert my gaze. Somehow, she’s even prettier while she sleeps. Her white-blonde hair glows almost silver under the dim lights of my car’s interior, clinging to her tear-stained cheeks and framing her face in a way that shows off her round cheeks cutely.

My eyes trace the outline of her eyebrows, cheekbones, and plump lips before my gaze trails down her slender throat and swipes slowly across her collarbone.

This night should have been different. If I had known and reacted earlier, I would have brought Gwen back to my penthouse and showed her how marvelously a woman like her should be treated.

Yet, here she is now. A sleeping beauty in my backseat. Pained from the kidnapping of her friend.

And now I have a big mess to clean up.

I carefully moved her body into a comfortable position before I shut the door behind her. My eyes linger on her through the tinted windows for moments before I finally peel them away with a heavy sigh.

I slide into the driver’s seat and plug my keys into the ignition. The car roars to life as I slip my phone out of my pocket and put it in the holder on the dash. I dial a number as I pull out of my spot and make my way back home. I lean back against the leather seat, trying to relax as my eyes spectate the hordes of people pouring out of the casino and looking for suspicious-looking cars. My mind races as the phone rings.

“Roman, what’s happening?” Victor’s voice crackled through the line in our mother tongue, urgent and rough.

“There’s been a shooting at the casino,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not sure who’s behind it. Saw a group of shady figures earlier at the bar. They had their eyes on me and some girls the entire time, and within ten minutes, they started shooting. I hit one of them and escaped with one of the girls. I think they got to the other.” I take a moment to glance over at Gwen. “I think someone must have figured out I’m managing things while Luka’s away and decided I’d be an easy target.”

Victor’s response was immediate, his anger evident . “Damn it, Roman. We need to hit back. Show them they can’t mess with us.” He has always been the most reckless out of my siblings, eager to resort to violence whenever a situation potentially called for it. For the most part, it was respectable. Victor never hesitated to do what needed to be done.

But I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “Not yet. We don’t have all the information. We need to be smart about this.” I take a moment to think. “I just switched Luka’s security systems. I’ll make the call to access the network tonight. I’ll have faces within the hour.”

I pause momentarily as my eyes pull toward the beautiful blonde in the back seat. My expressions soften for a moment before they stiffen once again as I return my focus to my brother on the line.

“Let’s hold off on retaliation for now,” I say,” not until we get a clear picture of what’s going on first.”

Victor’s frustration was palpable. “Fine, but keep me updated. I’ll call the others. We can’t let this slide.”

“I will,” I said, ending the call.

I wish I could say that this sort of thing never happened or that I wasn’t familiar with grave danger, but the truth is that I am. Life in the Bratva is a constant game of survival, where every step is a calculated risk, and trust is a luxury I can’t afford. It’s a world where betrayal lurks behind every corner, and every decision could be my last.

I’ve faced numerous attempts on my life over the years, all of them so deadly that it is impossible for one incident to stand out. I’ve been shot, I’ve been stabbed, I’ve been beaten, kidnapped, and tortured.

There was a night a few years back when a rival faction decided to test their mettle. They staged a full-scale attack on one of our warehouses. I was there, surrounded by my men, when an explosive device went off. The blast was deafening, and debris rained down around us. I barely escaped with my life, my clothes torn and my skin scorched. I’m reminded of that incident every time I look in the mirror and see the debris and burn scars littering my back.

But these attacks don’t just leave physical scars, but psychological ones too—a reminder of how precarious our hold on power really is.

It’s not just been my life on the line. I’ve come close to losing my siblings more than once. Victor and I have had our share of dangerous run-ins, but it was my sister Anya’s near-fatal encounter that haunts me the most. She was targeted by a group that wanted to send a message. They ambushed her one night, leaving her barely conscious and in critical condition. I remember the frantic rush to the hospital, the fear gripping me as I saw her lying in that sterile hospital bed, her body bruised and broken.

For two months, my dear Anya was in a devastating coma, her life hanging in the balance. Nobody could tell us what was going on. Not even the best doctors in the country could predict whether she would wake up. It was the longest two months of my life, waiting for her to wake up, hoping she would pull through. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and even now, the memory of those days reminds me of the thin line we walk every day.

Within half an hour, I returned to my building. I bark orders at the guards to stay away as I carefully carry Gwen from the car and into the elevator, holding her tightly as we make our way up to the penthouse. Soon enough, the elevator doors peeled apart, and I entered my penthouse, heading for the spiral stairs.

I carry her slowly up the stairs, glance down, and spot her head resting against my shoulder. I felt a strange feeling stir within me at the sight of her sleeping with her body pressed up against me. There was a possessive urge that bubbled within me that I couldn’t deny, that I struggled to control no matter how hard I tried to push it aside. It was difficult.

There was something about Gwen that allured me in a way that I never felt before, but I can’t quite place it.

All I know is that ever since I saw her and looked at her beautiful face, there’s this visceral, primal urge within me that desperately wants to claim her, protect her, make her mine , and keep her safe.

I carried her down the hallway and tucked into a guest room, walking forward to gently place her on the bed while I ignored the unsettling thoughts. The idea of claiming her, of keeping her close, continued to cross my mind. I quickly chastised myself for such thoughts. This wasn’t about personal desires; it was about strategy and control.

As much as I want to keep her, I first need to focus on protecting her and keeping her safe. And that all starts with finding out the identity of those fuckers behind all this and conducting a plan to take them down for good.

I pulled the blankets over her sleeping frame; my gaze stuck on her face for a moment before I turned around. I closed the door behind me.

With Gwen settled, I needed to get back to business. I needed to review the security cameras and prepare for the next steps.

Leaving her in the room, I turned my attention to the immediate concerns. I heard a knock at my door downstairs, which alerted me to my brother’s presence.

The night’s events were just beginning to unfold, and I had to stay ahead of whatever came next.