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)
“You will, I tell her.
She nods, and I stand.
By the time I’ve dressed and walked her to the private elevator, she’s put herself back together. I watch her step into the elevator and don’t take my eyes from hers until the doors close.
The warehouse isn’t far. Alek’s already inside by the time I arrive. The place is industrial and quiet, the lights low, the air thick with the smell of oil and dirt. One of the side rooms has been converted to a holding space, makeshift and efficient.
Two men kneel in the center of the room, wrists zip-tied behind them, hoods still on. One is bleeding from his head or face, a slow trickle staining the collar of his shirt. The other’s leg is bent at a bad angle, but he’s still conscious and alert.
Alek stands just behind them, arms crossed, boots planted wide.
“They’ve said nothing useful so far,” he says as I step inside.
“That’s okay,” I say with a widening grin. “I’ve been itching to let out some frustration.”
I circle the first man, unhurried. I pull off the hood and crouch in front of him.
He squints against the light. When his eyes adjust, recognition hits his face.
He knows who I am.
Good.
“You were told not to touch my business,” I say, calm and even. “You ignored that.”
He doesn’t speak.
I tilt my head. “That makes this simple.”
He opens his mouth, but I don’t give him the chance. My fist connects with his jaw in one clean punch. His head snaps to the side, and he drops to the ground like dead weight. He’s not unconscious, but he doesn’t fight back. He probably doesn’t have the energy.
I move to the second man. He flinches before I even reach him. I kneel, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me.
“You tell Rurik this,” I say. “If he sends anyone else into my city, touches one more dollar of mine, I will burn everything he has to the ground. He thinks I’m tied to my suits and skyscrapers. He thinks I’ve gone soft.”
I lean in closer.
“He’s wrong.”
I let go and stand.
Alek steps forward. “What do you want done with them?”
“Leave one in the alley. Make sure he’s found. The other…”
I look down at the first one, who’s still groaning softly, blood trailing from his nose.
“Send him back. He has a message to deliver.”
He doesn’t need further instructions.
I walk out without looking back. Some lessons have to be repeated. Loudly. Visibly.
I’m still outside the warehouse when I hear the shot.
My gun’s in my hand before the sound finishes echoing. Alek reacts just as fast, moving with me toward the eastern loading dock. Radimir was posted there with two men, watching the perimeter while I dealt with the problem inside. We don’t have confirmation yet, but I know what I heard.
Another shot. Louder this time. Closer.
We round the corner just as chaos breaks open.
One of the Vasiliev men is lying on the concrete, blood already spreading across his chest. One of mine, Gregor, returns fire from behind the rusted-out frame of a box truck, ducked low and swearing under his breath.
Radimir’s the only one exposed.
He’s crouched behind a steel barrel, breathing hard, his jacket sleeve soaked in red.
“Give me a status,” I bark, moving to cover.
“There are two shooters on the rooftop, west side,” Gregor yells. “Radimir’s hit.”
“I’m fine,” Radimir growls. “It’s just a graze.”
I trust him to know the difference.
Alek signals to two of our men flanking the outer lot. One peels left, the other slips along the side of the building, silent and fast. I move out from behind the truck and spot one of the shooters on the roof just as he leans out to line up another shot.
I fire once. The sound cracks like thunder. The man goes limp, his rifle clattering off the ledge before his body follows. One down.
The second shooter moves quickly, too fast for me to aim, but not fast enough to cover himself completely. Alek takes him out with two quick rounds to the torso.
Silence returns almost instantly. Just the low hiss of adrenaline and the faint echo of boots over gravel.
“Clear,” Alek calls.
“Clear,” I confirm.
Radimir exhales roughly. His jaw is tight, but he hasn’t dropped his weapon.
I kneel beside him. “Let me see.”
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, but I pull back the jacket anyway.
It’s just a graze, as he said although deep enough to bleed like hell, but not enough to slow him down. Still, I don’t take chances with my men.
“You’re going to see Viktor,” I say.
He doesn’t argue with me. I keep Viktor on the payroll just for moments like this.
Ten minutes later, we’re in the car. Radimir leans back, pressing a cloth against his arm, while Alek rides up front with me.
I don’t say much. I’m still replaying the events of tonight. The Vasilievs are getting bolder and sloppier by the day. This was messy and loud, a direct hit. A trap. Either they know exactly what they’re doing or they’re desperate to catch me off guard.