King of the Underworld by RJ Kane

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve
Sephie
“Well, you look like you’ve had an exciting morning,” I said.
Ivan walked into the kitchen, eyebrow raised, and his intense gaze burning holes in my soul as usual.
“I see your brush with death didn’t help you develop a sense of humor,” I mumbled under my breath.
Viktor and Andrei both choked back laughter, as they had both heard me.
Misha broke the tension in the room by asking Ivan what happened. He started to respond in Russian, but Misha stopped him. “Net. In English,” he said, motioning toward me. Ivan once again raised an eyebrow and stared at me but, nonetheless, continued his explanation in English.
“I got tip that Anthony was at a warehouse 3 miles from here. Too close, so I wanted to check it out myself. We get bad information always right now on where that little f*cker is. If information is bad this time, I take it out on my
source.”
While Ivan was talking, Andrei was making coffee for everyone. He sat a coffee cup down in front of me and I signed “thank you” to him. He winked and went about giving everyone else their coffee.
Ivan continued, “when we got to the warehouse, there was activity, but not enough that I suspected Anthony was there. At least not at that moment. There was maybe 10 guys there. I sent Stephen back here to take Boss home. I wanted a closer look, so I moved my position. I was 25 yards from warehouse doors, watching. Trucks come in, men unload, trucks leave. Everything was quiet for maybe an hour, then boom.”

“Holy shit,” I said, under my breath. “Are you okay?”
Ivan looked at me, somewhat surprised. It was like he wasn’t used to people inquiring about his well-being, and he didn’t know what to say. He nodded his head, saying “da” as he took his jacket off. When he turned his back to hang his jacket by the door, we all noticed a huge gash on the back of his shoulder.
“Your definition of fine and mine are clearly different,” I said. Misha went to inspect the gash.
“Looks bad, you might need stitches,” Misha told Ivan.
“Net. No hospital.”
“At least let me clean it up for you so it won’t get infected. I should have bandages that can cover it,” I said standing up from the barstool to go take a closer look at his injury. I quickly went to my bathroom and came back with a well- stocked first aid kit. They all raised their eyebrows when they saw my medical supplies.
“What? I’m clumsy. I get hurt a lot.”
I looked at Ivan and motioned to him, “come here. Take your shirt off.”
He stayed where he was, without moving for a few seconds. Like he was torn between following my orders and not
1/3
allowing me to help him.
“Or you can be stubborn and not let me help, in which case that gash gets infected, and you end up useless to anyone because you’re laying in bed with a fever for days, maybe weeks.”
Misha chuckled and kicked Ivan in the butt, effectively making him take a few steps toward me.
“I like her. She’s feisty,” Misha said.
Ivan mumbled something in Russian, under his breath, but still stood in front of me and pulled his shirt over his head. His entire upper body was covered in tattoos. I glanced at them as he took his shirt off but tried not to stare. He looked at me with his intense gaze and turned around. The gash looked even worse without his shirt.
“Oh boy.” I said. “Misha was right. You might really need stitches.”
“Net. No hospitals,” he said as he turned around to face me again. He towered over me and leaned down to add.
“unless you can do it, princess.”
I held his intense gaze and fired back, “actually, I can stitch it up, as*hole. It just isn’t going to look as pretty as what you’ll get if a doctor does it. And I have nothing to numb the area, so it’s gonna hurt like a son of a b*tch, which I will enjoy, but you will not.”
The other three men couldn’t contain their laughter this time and all three started laughing quietly at our exchange.
The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255