Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kirill
Sometimes, you just know things are wrong. You don't need proof.
That was the first lesson I learned from twenty years in the underworld. Instinct—sometimes it's more reliable than any intel. And right now, my instinct was screaming.
I stared through the windshield at the apartment building across the street. It was already ten o'clock. Her curtains had been drawn tight since last night. All day, they hadn't budged.
I pulled out my phone and dialed her number again. Just like the dozen times before, it rang twice, then cut off.
Not unanswered. Declined.
My heart sank.
"Boss," Boris turned from the passenger seat, "want me to send someone in?"
I shook my head.
If Julian had gone after Harper and the kid, barging in would just tip him off. Might even push him to do something worse.
But if I did nothing...
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Harper's face in that café yesterday flashed through my mind—that look mixing hatred, wariness, and a flicker of doubt. She didn't trust me. She had ten thousand reasons not to. But she'd still agreed to test Julian.
She'd agreed.
And now she was off the grid.
What did that mean?
It meant Julian knew. It meant his cover was blown. It meant Harper and Aiden were in serious danger right now.
"Round everyone up." I opened my eyes, my voice cold as ice. "We move tonight."
Eleven PM. We gathered in an alley across from the apartment building.
Boris had brought twelve men from New York. With a few local contacts I'd scrambled together in San Francisco, we had twenty total. Everyone wore body armor and carried automatic rifles, ready for war.
"Julian's got guys spread around the building. About forty." Boris pointed at the floor plan in his hand. "Two at the entrance, four in the lobby, two each at the stairwells and elevator. The rest scattered on different floors and the back exit."
I nodded. "Firepower?"
"Mostly handguns, some submachine guns. No heavy weapons."
"Good." I checked my gun and chambered a round. "I'll take five through the front. You take the rest and lock down the back and fire exits. Remember—no matter what happens, don't let Julian get away."
"Got it."
The first shot came from the entrance.
We hadn't even reached the front door when guards hidden in the shadows spotted us. A bullet whizzed past my ear and hit the wall behind me, spraying concrete chips.
"Cover!" I shouted, returning fire.
One bullet caught the guard square between the eyes. His body fell back, gun sliding from his hand. But more men poured out of the building, muzzle flashes lighting up the darkness like bloodthirsty fireflies.
"Fuck, there's more than intel said!" The man beside me cursed, ducking behind a column and spraying bullets.
I didn't answer. Just kept shooting and pushing forward.
An enemy lunged from the side. I dodged his attack, spun, and blew his head off. Warm blood splattered across my face, the sweet-metallic smell filling my nose, but I had no time to wipe it away.