Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
My assistant scurries to the door, her tablet hugged tight to her chest, her posture stiff. I can see an explanation forming on her lips, an unnecessary excuse, because it isn’t her fault these assholes barged into my office. What could she have done to stop it?
“You can go, Andrea.”
She doesn’t wait. She rushes out so fast the glass doors don’t have time to close before she’s gone around the corner.
The man on the left, Demyan, if I’m not mistaken, shifts slightly, enough to let the inside of his coat flare open. The silver glint of his gun catches my eye, exactly as he intended. He wants to intimidate me in my own territory. It’s a bold move. Idiotic, but bold.
“I assume you came here with a death wish,” I say evenly.
Demyan lets out a nervous chuckle. He clears his throat and sits up a little straighter. “We came with a message,” he says.
“Mm.” I tilt my head slightly. “And what message requires you to walk into my legitimate place of business carrying unlicensed weapons?”
The second man, Boris, speaks up, his voice low.
“This isn’t about business.”
“Then you’re even dumber than I thought,” I say, taking two slow steps into the room. “Because this,” I say, gesturing at the space, the city, the skyline beyond the windows, “is my business.”
They both go still, eyes on me. I can feel Radimir tense beside me, but he says nothing.
“You want to warn me off Rurik,” I say, dragging a chair away from the table and sitting down with deliberate calm. “So go on. Say the words. Let me hear them.”
Demyan leans forward again. “If you touch him again, you’ll regret it.”
I smile, but it never reaches my eyes. “Interesting,” I say. “That Rurik isn’t man enough to say this to me himself.”
“You’ve made enough noise already,” Boris growls. “You hit the docks. You took out six of our men—”
“Correction,” I interrupt. “Your boss took out six of your men by sending them to interfere with my business. I just cleaned up the mess.”
“You think you can walk away from this?” Demyan snaps. “There’s a price for going after a Vasiliev.”
I laugh under my breath. They still don’t realize they’re merely prey who’ve walked into a loaded trap.
“You come into my company,” I say, standing slowly, letting the chair creak back behind me. “You bring weapons into my building. You make a threat against me on the top floor of a skyscraper I own.”
I step closer, until I’m in front of them. Until they have to look up.
“You’ll be lucky to get out of here with your heads intact.”
Boris pushes to his feet. He’s taller than Demyan, broader through the chest. He’s clearly an enforcer, likely used to being the scariest one in the room. Unfortunately, his act doesn’t work on me. I don’t even blink.
“You had a lot of guts coming here,” I say, folding my hands behind my back. “Too bad I have to make examples of you. You work for the wrong boss.”
Demyan’s jaw twitches. “You wouldn’t dare—”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re very bad at recognizing your position.”
And then I nod.
At my signal, Radimir moves. The hallway doors open again and two of my men step in, silent and fast. In less than five seconds, both Vasiliev men are disarmed, spun around, and shoved to their knees. There’s the slap of zip ties, the hiss of fabric as black cloth hoods are pulled over their heads.
Demyan snarls a threat in Russian.
One of my men elbows him hard in the ribs. “Quiet.”
Radimir adjusts his jacket cuffs, as if they’re the most interesting thing to see in the room.
“What do you want to send back with the bodies?”
I let my gaze sweep the skyline outside for a moment before turning back to him. “You’re the creative one.” I grin. “You decide.”
Radimir grins wickedly. He crouches next to Demyan and whispers something I can’t hear, but I see the way Demyan reacts. His shoulders go stiff, like he’s afraid.
The two men are hauled to their feet, their curses muffled by the sacks now tied securely over their faces. My men drag them toward the back exit, toward the freight elevator that leads to the sublevel where there are no cameras and no questions asked.
I return to my seat and lower myself into it with slow, controlled precision. Radimir doesn’t follow them out. He closes the doors gently and returns to stand across from me.
“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I think they knew this was a suicide run.”
“Good,” I say. “That means Rurik knows I’m dangerous.”
Radimir nods.
“Have the cleanup team ready,” I add. “No blood on the freight deck. No trace they were ever here.”
“You got it, boss.”
I let silence settle between us for a moment. I can still feel the heat in my bloodstream, that chemical spike of controlled fury that always comes with a challenge to my territory. It’ll fade soon, though not entirely.