Dark Christmas: A Bratva Next Door Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
Dark Christmas: Chapter 23

The cold air bites as we step out of Claire and David’s place.

I watch Amelia hug Claire tightly, and something about the way Claire whispers, “You’ve got this,” makes me pause. There’s a quiet determination in Amelia’s eyes, but I know her well enough now to see she’s hiding something.

We start walking back to my car, the city around us is quiet and peaceful, wrapped in Christmas lights. Peaceful, at least on the surface. But I can feel the tension radiating off her—like her mind is a million miles away.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner,” I say, glancing over at her. “You okay?”

She flashes me a smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t that hungry, I guess.”

I don’t buy it, but I don’t press. I’ve learned not to push her when she’s got something heavy on her mind. She’ll come to me when she’s ready.

“I like your friends,” I say, keeping it light. “And Pancake’s got energy for days.”

She laughs, a small, quiet sound. “Yeah, Pancake’s a trip.”

Knowing her thoughts are somewhere else is starting to make me uneasy. I glance up and down the street, always scanning, always aware.

Then, I feel it. A shift in the air. Something’s off. I slow down, instinct kicking in, and she mirrors me, confused.

“Keep walking,” I say, my voice low. “Act normal.”

She hesitates for a second before matching my pace. I feel her heart rate pick up, and her breath quickens. “What’s happening?”

I glance back, catching a shadow moving too deliberately. “We’re being followed.”

Her pulse goes into overdrive, but I keep my voice calm. “Pick up the pace. Now.”

I speed up, but she struggles to keep up with my stride. “Melor, your legs—”

“We can’t slow down,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We need to get to the car.”

I see her eyes widen as it sinks in. She’s practically running now, and I glance back again. They’re gaining on us.

A slight stream of traffic makes it impossible to cross the street to safety, so I make a quick decision, pulling her into a nearby store that’s still open. The neon lights flicker as we walk inside and try to blend in with the late-night browsers. I move us toward the counter, scanning the store while Amelia pretends to casually look around.

I lean in close, my voice barely a whisper. “Stay calm. We’ll be okay.”

She nods slightly, but I can feel the fear rolling off her. Inside, I’m ready for whatever’s coming. Outside, I stay cool.

I flash a smile at the guy behind the counter, though I can see he’s suspicious. Amelia’s still out of breath, which doesn’t help, but she’s quick. All charm, she says, “We just got a new kitten, and of course, we ran out of kitten chow. Little guy eats a lot for something so small.”

The guy softens, her words working like magic. “Let me show you where the cat food is.”

As they head to the back of the store, I stay at the counter, my eyes on the door and windows. No doubt they’re waiting outside, watching. They’re not just keeping tabs; they’re ready. They’re waiting for me to screw up.

They want us to make the first move.

I can feel the tension tightening in my chest. No more time to waste.

I pull out my phone, dialing a number I hoped I wouldn’t need to call tonight. It rings once. Twice. Then Mashkov’s gruff voice comes through.

“They’re here,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady. “Two men, watching us right now.” I give him my location.

There’s a pause. Then, calm as ever, he says, “Stay where you are. I’ll handle it.”

I hang up, slipping the phone back into my pocket. Mashkov has never let me down before, but I know better than to just wait. I scan the store, calculating every move.

I glance toward the aisle where Amelia is. She’s still talking, buying time.

I reach into my coat, fingers curling around the grip of my gun, keeping it hidden but ready. My eyes never leave the front of the store as I move toward the entrance. Amelia’s doing exactly what I need her to do—keeping the clerk occupied, charming him with small talk, pulling all of his attention her way.

Through the window, I see two men approaching the store, their steps slow but deliberate. I size them up, noting every detail—the way they’re scanning the area, the tension in their posture.

They’re hunting.

The last thing I want is a public shootout, but if it comes down to that in order to protect Amelia, there’s no question in my mind I’ll end it quickly and cleanly. No hesitation.

Fury builds in my chest. I’ve been watching over her for weeks, but the quiet made me sloppy. Complacent. I know better. I should’ve anticipated this. I should’ve said no to dinner.

The men step inside, their eyes immediately sweeping the place. They haven’t noticed me yet, but I can feel the tension building. My fingers tighten around my gun. If they make a move, I’m ready.

I shift slightly, positioning myself between them and Amelia. No one touches her. Not while I’m still breathing.

As they step farther in, I brace for the worst, my mind calculating every possible outcome. If it’s going to go down, it’s going to go down hard, and I’ll make sure they regret it. I keep my hand tight on the gun, ready to pull it the second the situation turns.

My eyes remain on both men and within seconds they notice me, but before I can react, they flash their palms, showing they’re unarmed. My grip loosens slightly, but I stay on edge, watching their every move.

One of them steps closer, his voice low. “Mashkov sent us.”

Relief hits me like a wave, but I don’t let it show.

“I’m glad you showed up so fast.”

“He had us posted in the neighborhood after your last conversation. Figured a little extra insurance wouldn’t hurt.”

I can’t help but grin. I should’ve known. Mashkov is always one step ahead.

“We’re here to escort you and the lady back to your place,” the other man says, his voice all business. “Safer that way.

I glance toward the door, then back at them. “What about the others? Do you know if they’re still out there?”

The first man shakes his head. “Saw you had backup and slipped into a car then drove off. But we can’t take any chances. They could be regrouping.”

They’re right. We can’t let our guard down. “Let’s get out of here,” I say as I turn to Amelia, who’s still chatting up the clerk, clueless to how close things got.

Time to get her home, where she’s safe.

Amelia catches my eye and wraps up her chat with the clerk, her eyes flicking over to the two men with me. Her smile falters, and I can see the worry creeping in. I stride over, keeping everything calm and casual. She doesn’t need to know just how close we came to things going sideways.

We head to the counter, and I hand my card to the clerk, giving Amelia a reassuring nod. “Look who I ran into, honey,” I say. “They’ll be heading over to our place with us.”

Her eyes widen slightly but she gets it.

I take the card and bag, giving the clerk a quick smile before turning to Amelia. Together, we walk over to the two men. They fall in step with us as we head out into the cool night.

The air feels heavier now, colder. I’m pissed.

They got too close.

Those bastards were right there, watching, waiting. One wrong move, and it could’ve been a bloodbath. I clench my jaw, keeping the anger in check.

They won’t get another chance.