Dark Russian Angel (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 1)
Dark Russian Angel: Prologue

I was digging through my purse, looking for my keys, when I heard the voices. Typically there wasn’t anyone in the parking lot this late at night, so I slowed my footsteps.

I came around the corner and saw two men standing on the other side of the parking lot.

“Don’t be like this, man. We can work it out,” one man pleaded.

“Did you really think you could get away with it?” the other man said, amusement in his voice.

If there was going to be a fistfight, I wanted to get out of here. I moved to my car and unlocked the door. Neither of the men paid any attention to me.

I opened the driver’s door and tossed my purse on the front seat.

“Don’t shoot. Bunko, please,” the first man begged.

What?

Against my will, I slowly spun around. The second man had a gun pointed at the first man.

Snap. Snap.

I watched in shock as the first man fell to his knees before crumpling to the ground.

Holy shit.

Then the second man, the one who was holding the gun, looked in my direction. Our eyes met.

Without emotion, he lifted the gun and pointed it at me. My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. I dove into my car, my shaking hands doing a shit job of starting the engine.

Come on, come on, come on.

I could see him approaching in my rearview mirror. Somehow I managed to jam the key in and turn it over. My engine came to life with a roar.

I looked in the mirror. He was running towards me now. His gun was out.

He’s going to shoot me.

I hit the gas, and the car lurched forward. I heard a crunch of metal and felt the drag of my car—it was hooked on something—but with the gas to the floor, I managed to escape the parking lot. Cars honked as I pulled onto the busy road, blind in my attempts to get away. It was ten blocks before I could pull my car over to the side of the road.

My hands were shaking so hard I could barely get my phone out. Ringing sounded in my ear as I tried to calm my breath.

This is not happening to me. This is not happening. Why could nothing in my life be normal?

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“I just saw a man shoot someone.”