Dangerous Illusion [18+]

19: Distraction

The burn of scotch I polished off earlier didn't stop me from ordering another one. The sound of music over the blood roaring through my veins didn't calm my restless heart.

Luna

Luna

Luna

My love

She was all I could think of. Her safety and life were compromised the moment she stepped into my life. I had protected her by keeping my distance from her for years, but I had made the mistake of getting close to her again. How could I stay away from the one person who I loved like nothing else? Who loved me like no one else.

I could still hear the gunshot ringing in my ears even though hours had passed since I left the damned place.

"Another." I ordered at the bartender. He didn't say anything but continued supplying me with drinks.

I had been on call with Manuel after leaving the manufacturing facility in the Siberian wilderness discussing revised security protocols and increased vigilance around Luna. He had noted my instructions to not let anyone get close to her without his notice. Even with twenty-four-seven surveillance around her apartment I couldn't be sure if she'd be safe.

He didn't need to be told twice. He understood me and the desperate need I felt to protect her. There was no one I trusted more than myself to safeguard her but with me on the other side of the globe, Manuel, my most trusted man would do a good job. Failure was not a choice; I had told him.

'I'll protect her with my life' he assured me before I got off the call.

Marc and Leo were somewhere in the club screwing a woman who came at us not too long ago.

I had driven her off not bothering to even look at her face. But the twins were letting off some steam after the day we had. I didn't blame them. I wanted nothing more than to take the love of my life in my arms and hit the bed with her.

"Privet, krasavchik." A feminine voice purred near my ear. Then the sweet scent of a woman's perfume assaulted my senses. I was nauseous. My head swiveled to see a woman drape her arm around my shoulder as she attempted to push her barely covered bust my way. She wore heavy make-up; dark kohl was smudged underneath her eyes and her lips were coated in bright shade of red. Her hair was the colour of wheat and pin straight.

"Back off." I admonished. She, of course, didn't take no for an answer. She tucked her metallic purse underneath her arms and took a seat beside me. I shot her a warning look that made her drop her hand away from my body.

"American, I see. What is a guy like you doing all by himself at this hour?" She spoke in a Russian accent. There was an invitation in her voice which made me sick.

"I won't repeat myself; you need to leave." One moment she was flashing her semi-nude body at me and in the other, she had a shiny and sharp object in her hand. I ducked in a lightning speed when she swung the knife at my throat. The glass slipped from my hand smashing on the floor in a million pieces. Rounding myself I caught her hands, not finding any difficulty in restraining her by force. She cursed in Russian, but I had already flipped her and pinned her to the table. I heard deafening screams around me, the people scattering away at the sight unfolding in front of them. I was shaken too but my self-defense skills had already kicked in. Adrenaline pumping through my body in a mad force. I was trained to expect an attack any moment of the day. I could fight the attacker off, restrain him, even blow some punches of my own in a barely conscious state. I was buzzed with alcohol but still I could fend off an attack on my life.

I didn't expect an assassination attempt in a crowded place like a club, but I should've. I was in a foreign land surrounded by enemies who hid in the shadows waiting for me.

"Who sent you?" I growled, blood rushing through my veins. My grip tightened around her hand holding her in place with one hand while with my other free hand I disarmed her. The knife was meant to kill me and if I had been any more drunk, I'd be lying on the cold hard floor like Sokolov did not too long ago.

In the periphery of my vision, I saw two men round up and emerge from the shadows where they blended with the common people. They were watching me, waiting to pounce on me. A woman's scream drew my attention to the guns the men withdrew from their jackets. People rushed around desperate to get away from the massacre that was about to happen. My hands were full of the women I held pinned. She was merely a distraction. The real killers were these men.

The barrel was pointed at my head and not even two seconds later the gunshot went off. Everything stilled around me. Blood, horror, and screams filled my surroundings. Chaos ensued and I expected to collapse with death only to find I was uninjured.

But when the sight of the bloodied Russian woman met my eyes, I was stricken with the knowledge of the horror that I had shielded myself from the attack by using her.

And now she was dead. 

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