Chapter 16 Viktor #2
The remaining two open fire. I tackle the nearest, driving him into the wall. Bone crunches—his wrist, then his jaw. He slumps as I snap his neck back like a ragdoll. Ivan disarms the last with a twist and a kick, pistol skittering across the floor. A final punch ends it.
Silence, except for our breathing.
Caulfield’s gone. The coward ran for his life. And, to be honest, I don’t blame him.
“Fuck,” Ivan mutters, wiping blood from his lip. “Slippery bastard.”
I scan the corridor. Service exit at the end—door ajar.
Sirens wail in the distance, closing fast.
“We’re out,” I say.
“Caulfield?” Ivan asks.
“Soon. But not tonight,” I growl. “It’s time to bounce.”
We move—back through the kitchen, past startled staff, into the alley. Night air hits like a slap. We split up immediately—Ivan toward the subway, me toward a side street. No cabs. Too traceable. I walk fast, blending into the crowd spilling out of bars, coat collar up, head down.
My phone buzzes once—Ivan…
Ivan: Rendezvous at penthouse? Safe. Crash with me.
I type back…
Viktor: No. Staying with the boys.
The sirens grow louder behind me, blue and red lights flashing across brick walls. Zane’s House is about to crawl with uniforms and questions. Caulfield’s escape is a setback, but not a total loss. He ran. That tells me everything…
He’s involved. Scared. Guilty as sin.
We’ll find him.
And when we do, there will be no more running.
I slip into the night, heading toward Robbie’s apartment. Eddie’s waiting. He doesn’t know how close the danger came tonight. He doesn’t need to—not yet.
I walk the two last blocks with my coat collar up, hands in pockets, scanning every shadow and parked car.
No tails.
No eyes on me.
I’ve made contact with Alexander and he is already rounding up a team of my best, most fearless street soldiers and generals. It’s moving closer to war time. And I’m ready to lay it all on the line to bring peace and stability back to the family.
But right now, peace still feels a long way away.
The sirens from Zane’s House are long gone, swallowed by the city’s constant noise, but the adrenaline still hums under my skin—sharp, restless…
Caulfield ran. That alone is confession enough. He’s in this. The question is how deep? And who else is playing on his team?
I climb the stairs to Robbie’s apartment, knock twice—soft, controlled.
The door opens almost immediately. Robbie stands there in an oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks, hair floppy and frosted at the tips. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t slam the door either.
“He’s asleep,” Robbie whispers, stepping aside to let me in. “Couch.”
I nod and follow his gaze. Eddie is curled on the living room sofa under a throw blanket, one arm tucked under his cheek, the other draped protectively over Goldie.
His breathing is slow and even, face soft in sleep.
The sight hits me harder than it should—relief first, then something quieter, warmer.
He’s safe.
For now.
Robbie closes the door behind me, locks it.
“You look like hell,” he says plainly. “Mint tea? It’s good for de-stressing.”
I let out a low chuckle despite myself. “You’re a good judge.”
“Am I?” Robbie asks, a hint of sass in his voice. “Hmmm.”
He moves to the kitchenette, fills the kettle, sets out two mugs. The apartment is small, lived-in—art prints on the walls, fairy lights strung over the window, a faint scent of vanilla and fruity body spray. Comfortable. Safe. Exactly what Eddie needed tonight.
Robbie pours hot water over tea bags, hands me a steaming mug. “I haven’t made up my mind about you yet,” he says, leaning against the counter. “Eddie’s innocent. Sweet. And you… you’re not. I might be a Little, but I’m not na?ve. I’m concerned he’s in over his head with a man like you.”
I take a sip of the tea. It’s sharp, clean, soothing despite myself. “My intentions toward Eddie are pure,” I say quietly. “I won’t lie to you… my world is dangerous. But I would burn it down before I let it touch him.”
Robbie studies me for a long moment. “I believe you mean that. But meaning it doesn’t make it true.”
“Fair.”
He nods toward the couch. “He trusts you. More than he’s letting on. That’s rare for him.”
I glance at Eddie again. His chest rises and falls steadily. “He’s stronger than he looks.”
“Yeah,” Robbie says softly. “He is. But…”
“Milo,” I begin, pausing as I take a sip of the tea.
A beat of silence. Then Robbie asks, “What do you want to know about Milo?”
I set the mug down. “Everything you’ve got.”
Robbie exhales through his nose. “I’ve met him a couple of times…
gallery openings, once at the café. Didn’t get great energy from him.
Slick. Charming in that fake way. Always smiling like he’s selling something.
He’s got money, but he’s insecure. Eddie liked him because he believed in his work, gave him the show.
But I never felt like he had his best interests at heart.
More like he was… convenient. A shiny new toy to parade around. ”
I sip the tea again, letting his words settle. Milo. Nervous at the gallery, sweating when I leaned on him. The building deal. The ambush right after.
Coincidence? Maybe.
But I don’t believe in coincidences.
“Thanks,” I say. “That helps.”
Robbie finishes his tea, sets the mug in the sink. “Good. Anyway… I’m going to bed. But before I do…” He hesitates, cheeks flushing slightly. “Thanks for the spanking earlier. I probably needed it. But I know it’s just you and Eddie. That’s cool.”
I chuckle—quiet, genuine. “Good night, Robbie,” I say.
We might not be friends just yet, but I can see that he’s a good boy who definitely has Eddie’s best interests at heart. Unlike Milo.
He disappears down the short hallway, door clicking shut behind him.
I carry my mug to the small kitchen table, sit, and watch Eddie sleep. The city noise filters through the window—distant horns, a siren far off—but in here it’s quiet. Peaceful. He’s turned slightly in his sleep, one hand curled under his chin, lips parted.
I finish the tea, set the mug down.
The end game is drawing in ever closer. There’s no escaping the fact that everything is coming up to boil. But when it’s over, I need to ensure that I’m the last man standing.
I didn’t get my reputation as the Devil of Downtown for nothing.
And perhaps now it’s time to remind everyone exactly where that reputation came from…