Kanyan (Gatti Enforcers #1)

44. Kanyan

44

KANYAN

T he monastery is quiet now, almost eerily so, as I step back inside. The silence isn’t comforting. It’s the kind of quiet that hums with something just out of reach, a storm building in the distance. I don’t trust it, not for a second. My hand hovers near the gun at my hip, every sense on edge.

Attila falls into step beside me, his face a grim mask. “We missed something,” he says quietly. “Kadri wouldn’t lure us all here and let it fall apart this easily.”

He’s right. I’ve been feeling it since we found Lula and Allegra—relief tempered by this gnawing sense of unease. Kadri doesn’t make mistakes. He’s too methodical, too much of a snake. He wouldn’t risk pulling Seattle and the Gatti Brothers into one place to annihilate us only to let us live.

I glance at Attila. “Spread out. Check everything again. Every room, every corridor. If he left anything behind, I want to know about it.”

He nods and peels off into the shadows, leaving me alone in the main corridor. My boots echo on the stone floor as I move, the walls seeming to close in tighter with every step.

Kadri has been playing this game for longer than I realized. Maybe since that first meeting, when I told him to take his weapons deal and shove it. Back then, I thought it was just another small-time scumbag pushing boundaries. I didn’t think he had it in him to build something this big, to keep pushing for more power, more control.

I push open a heavy wooden door and step into what looks like an old storage room. Dust hangs in the air, thick and choking, and I can just make out the shapes of broken crates and rusted tools piled against the far wall. At first glance, it’s nothing. But then I see it—a small, dark smudge on the stone floor, leading to a cracked trapdoor partially hidden beneath a rotted rug.

My pulse quickens.

I kneel and grip the edge of the trapdoor, yanking it open. The rusted hinges screech in protest, revealing a narrow stone staircase spiraling down into darkness.

I pull out my flashlight and click it on, the beam cutting through the shadows. The air that wafts up is damp and cold, smelling faintly of mold and something acrid. This isn’t a forgotten part of the monastery. Someone’s been down here recently.

I radio Attila. “Found something. Underground. Bring backup.”

His response is immediate. “On my way.”

I start down the stairs, my gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other. The walls are rough, the steps uneven, but I move quickly, fueled by the gut feeling that whatever Kadri has planned, it’s connected to this.

The staircase opens into a large underground chamber. The room is empty at first glance, the walls lined with old, rusted chains and iron rings embedded in the stone. It looks like some kind of medieval dungeon, long abandoned—but the fresh scrape marks on the floor and the faint scent of chemicals tell a different story.

In the center of the room is a single metal table. And on that table, a laptop sits open, the screen glowing faintly.

I approach cautiously, every instinct screaming that this is a trap. But the curiosity, the need to know, overrides the warning bells. The screen displays a countdown timer. It’s not ticking down; it’s frozen at zero.

Attila arrives, his footsteps echoing behind me. “What the hell is this?” he mutters, his eyes scanning the room.

“I don’t know,” I say. But then I notice the USB drive plugged into the laptop and the small, blinking light on its side. I pull on a pair of gloves and carefully eject the drive, holding it up to the flashlight.

There’s a small label on it, handwritten in neat block letters: For Seattle.

“What’s on it?” Attila asks.

I shake my head. “We’re going to find out.”

Before I can say anything else, Attila’s phone buzzes. He answers, his expression darkening as he listens. “They’re at the cars,” he says, looking at me sharply. “Jayson just called. Someone set them on fire. They barely got the women out in time.”

My grip tightens on the USB drive. “Kadri,” I growl. “He’s not done with us yet.”

Back at base, the USB drive feels heavier than it should in my hand. I toss it to Jayson, who catches it mid-air, his expression grim but focused. He’s already wiped the soot from his face from the car fires, but the smell of smoke still clings to him.

“Plug it in,” I say, my voice hard. “Let’s see what Kadri’s trying to tell us.”

We’re in an abandoned safehouse on the edge of town, a fallback spot we barely made it to after Kadri’s latest play. Dante sits nearby, his cut hand freshly wrapped, his eyes stormy with rage. Attila leans against the wall, arms crossed, his body tense and ready for another fight.

Jayson slides the USB into a laptop, and for a second, the screen flickers, and then a file pops open. It’s a video.

I lean forward as Jayson clicks play.

The video begins with Kadri, sitting in a lavish office chair, his suit crisp and tailored to perfection. He’s got that smug, self-satisfied smile that I’ve come to hate. Behind him, a window overlooks a sprawling cityscape that’s unfamiliar—definitely not local.

“Congratulations,” Kadri says, his voice dripping with false charm. “If you’re watching this, it means you’ve survived my little greeting party at the monastery. Well done. I hoped you would.”

The room falls deathly silent as we watch.

“But don’t get too comfortable,” he continues, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with malice. “That was just the beginning. You see, while you were scrambling through my little maze, I was setting the pieces in motion. You think this is about me taking control of Seattle? No. This is about dismantling everything the Gatti Brothers and your precious Seattle alliance stand for.”

My jaw clenches, but I don’t say anything.

Kadri’s grin widens, as if he can sense my fury even through the screen. “You’re not untouchable, Kanyan. None of you are. I’ve planted seeds in your city, your businesses, your homes. And when those seeds grow, they’ll destroy you from the inside out.”

The screen cuts to a series of clips—images of Seattle’s docks, the Gatti Brothers’ hotels, even Scar’s private estate. They’re all marked with red Xs, as if Kadri is mapping out a plan of attack.

“You have 72 hours,” Kadri says, reappearing on the screen. “After that, everything burns. Your empire, your alliances, your city. And if you think you can find me before then, by all means, try. But know this: I’ll always be one step ahead. I always have been.”

The video ends abruptly, the screen going black.

Jayson slams the laptop shut, his face pale. “He’s bluffing,” he says, though his voice lacks conviction.

“No, he’s not,” Dante says, standing and pacing the room. “Kadri’s been planning this for years. He’s got people on the inside—there’s no other way he’d know half the things we just saw.”

I don’t speak. I can’t. My mind is racing, piecing together Kadri’s puzzle, trying to figure out where to strike first.

Attila breaks the silence. “We need to split up. Cover more ground. If Kadri’s planted something in Seattle, we need to find it now. Before the 72 hours are up.”

“No,” I say finally, my voice like steel. “That’s exactly what he wants. He’s baiting us, trying to spread us thin so he can pick us off. We don’t play his game. We stick together.”

Dante turns to me, his dark eyes burning. “And do what, Kanyan? Sit here and wait for him to blow everything up?”

“No.” I grab the laptop and open it again, scrolling through the images Kadri left behind. “We turn the game on him. He’s got us looking at Seattle, but if I know Kadri, there’s more to this. He’s a showman. He wants us distracted.”

“Distracted from what?” Jayson asks, stepping closer.

I pause on one of the images—a grainy shot of the holding unit on the outskirts of town; the one where our weapons were stolen. Something about it feels off, too obvious, too clean. And something else triggers in the back of my mind.

“This,” I say, tapping the screen. “This is where it all started. And there’s a reason for that.” I’m mumbling now, as though I’m thinking out aloud.

Dante crosses his arms. “You’re planning a trap.”

I nod. “We’ll give him what he wants—our attention. But we do it on our terms. No splitting up, no rushing in blind. We hit his hideout hard, and we take no prisoners.”

Attila grins, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Now you’re talking my language.”

“How do we find Kadri now?” Mason asks, stepping forward. “He got away at the monastery and there’s been no sign of him since.”

The room falls silent again, but this time it’s a charged silence, filled with resolve. We’ve been on the defensive for too long. It’s time to take the fight to Kadri.

And this time, I won’t stop until he’s dead.

“Where’s Lucky?” I ask.

Lucky’s source led us to the monastery. And now he’s going to lead us right to Kadri’s door.