Chapter Nineteen
Mitchell
(Two Hours Earlier)
“He can’t be this stupid,” Ghost mutters as we walk into the building. My uncle’s penthouse is right above us.
“Technically, it’s a smart move,” Knox says from behind. “The warehouse that was raided was under the ruling of Viktor Everhart. Viktor’s alias, Anthony Valdez, has zero connections to it. Trust me, I dug deep.”
“And he has no idea we know who he really is,” Venom adds. “He’s probably upstairs right now, relaxing with a glass of scotch.”
“Actually,” Emily cuts in, glancing at the laptop that she’s holding, “he’s booking a private jet as we speak. Scheduled to take off in six hours for Suzdal.”
“Russia,” I say. “He probably has warehouses all over the world.”
“Your sister seemed to think so,” King confirms as he steps into the room. “Building’s secure. I sent the staff away.”
“How’d you manage that?” Knox asks, curious.
King throws a sharp glance his way, and Knox’s eyes widen as he instinctively takes a step back. Everyone knows King wouldn’t hurt him, but the man has a way of exuding pure intimidation when he wants to.
“Got it,” Knox swallows hard. “You just told them to leave, and they did.”
“Stop scaring my husband, fucker,” Taylor snaps. He places a hand on Knox’s shoulder. “Pup, you and Em go sit in the lobby. I don’t want either of you anywhere near this man.”
“Uhm… Papa?” Knox whispers, clutching his laptop. “Can’t I come?”
I frown, watching Knox closely. He was fine just a moment ago. But then thunder booms outside, and the sound makes him jump, dropping his laptop in the process.
Ah. Gotcha. Knox and storms don’t mix, not since the tornado incident.
“It’s alright, baby,” Taylor soothes, pulling him into his arms. “I’ll stay with you. You guys head up. Let me know if you need anything.”
With a nod, the rest of us head up the stairs to the penthouse, purposefully avoiding the elevator.
As we near the door, an angry feminine voice cuts through the silence.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, bastard. Touch me again, and I’ll kick you in the balls!”
“Is that your sister?” Venom asks quietly, smirking. “Didn’t know the little Princess could talk without sounding so proper.”
Yeah, neither did I.
And damn, it makes me proud.
King silently pulls out his gun, and we all follow suit.
“On my mark,” he whispers.
“Three. Two.”
With a sharp slice of his hand, King signals, and we move in with practiced precision. My training with Taylor and his bodyguards gave me an edge, but King’s been sharpening us into a force of our own. A small but capable army.
“What the hell are you doing in my home?” my uncle bellows as we burst in.
Seraphina’s laughter rings out, light and relieved, when she sees who we are.
I lower my gun and step forward, my gaze locking on Viktor. The sight of him stokes the simmering rage in my chest. This man, this monster, murdered my entire family. God knows what he planned to do to my sister.
I force a cold smile, knowing exactly what he sees: his worst fucking nightmare.
“Hello, Uncle Viktor,” I say, making sure my voice is laced with the heavy, regal Scottish accent I spent years hiding. “It’s been a long time.”
“Leander,” he sighs. “Thank goodness it’s you. I thought for sure I was being attacked. It’s good to see you, Prince. I actually only recently found you and had planned to reach out.”
I let out a low chuckle, cold and humorless. “Attacked? No, Uncle. That comes later.”
His expression tightens, the cracks in his composure showing. “Leander, my boy, this isn’t necessary. Let’s talk like family.”
“Family?” I hiss, taking a step closer. The men spread out behind me, weapons still drawn, their presence a silent warning. “You murdered your own brother. My mother. My cousins. My aunts and uncles. Your brothers and sisters. You killed them all. And you dare to talk about family?”
His gaze flicks to Seraphina, standing behind me now, her chin high, her arms crossed in defiance. For a moment, I see his mask slip, his frustration surfacing.
“She’s fine,” he says, gesturing toward her. “No harm done. You’ve made your point. Now, take her and go.”
“No harm done?” My voice cuts like a blade as I step closer, forcing Viktor back into the opulent glass desk. “You were going to use her as a bargaining chip, weren’t you? Sell her off to prop up whatever crumbling alliances you have left. Because that’s what you do. We know all about your operations, Uncle.” I pause, a cold smirk tugging at my lips. “I’ll give you credit, though. Hiding behind an alias to play at a normal life? That was clever.”
His jaw tightens, his silence betraying the truth.
“I should kill you right here,” I say, my voice low and deadly.
Viktor’s face hardens as he straightens, trying to salvage some semblance of control. “You think you can step into my world, Leander? You don’t understand the weight of power. Disbanding the kingdom was a mistake. I was trying to save the Everhart name.”
“You saved nothing,” I snarl. “You took everything. From me, from Seraphina. From us.”
Behind me, King clears his throat, his voice steady and commanding. “Mitchell. We’re not here to debate history. Focus.”
I glance back at him, then at Seraphina. Her chin is high, but there’s a flicker of fear in her eyes. That’s all it takes to center me. King’s right. This isn’t the time to lose control.
“You’re right,” I say, turning my gaze back to Viktor, my tone colder than ice. “Talking won’t solve this.”
I raise my gun, leveling it at Viktor’s head.
And then I pull the trigger.
The shot echoes, sharp and final. Viktor crumples to the ground, his reign of terror extinguished in an instant.
Anticlimactic? Maybe. But I honestly don’t give a fuck.
I lower the gun, exhaling a deep, steadying breath. My thoughts drift to my father. My mother. Their lives stolen by one man’s greed.
“Long live the King,” I say quietly, bowing my head in respect for my father’s memory.
“Long live the Queen,” Seraphina says softly from beside me. “They’ve been avenged. Now, they’re free.”
I turn to her, pull her into my arms, and hold her tightly.
“Now, we’re free,” I whisper.
No more looking over my shoulder. No more isolating myself out of fear that Viktor would find those I cared about and use them against me.
No more pushing Evie away.
I can finally step out of the shadows.
“Raven’s calling,” Blaze says. “Hey, sweetheart. Slow down, I can’t understand you. What building? Let me talk to Steel, honey. Raven? Fuck, I think the phone died.”
“What’s going on?” Ghost asks.
“I’m calling my brother,” Blaze responds.
“Speaker,” Ghost orders.
Doing so, he holds his phone out for all to hear.
“What?” Steel shouts a few rings later, his voice laced with panic and frustration.
“Steel, what the fuck is going on?”
I stand next to him, every muscle in my body taut, straining to hear the other side of the conversation over the roaring wind and pounding rain.
“Raven called me freaking the hell out,” Blaze continues, his grip on the phone tightening. “Something about a building. What’s that noise?”
I hear Steel’s muffled shouting through the speaker, barely audible over the storm.
“The fucking clubhouse collapsed while we were loading up the van!” Steel yells, his words slamming into us like the storm outside.
“Shit,” Blaze mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. “The storm’s insane. Knox is freaking out over here. Must have been a strong gust. Are you all on your way to King’s yet?”
The silence on the line stretches for half a beat before there’s a loud crash, and Steel’s voice erupts. “FUCK!”
Blaze’s jaw tightens as he shouts into the phone, “Steel, what the hell is happening? Are you on your way or not?”
Steel’s reply is quick, sharp, and filled with raw frustration. “No, I’m fucking not!”
The wind howls through the phone, and I catch the faint sound of something heavy shifting. Then, a pained grunt. My chest tightens.
“Fucking talk to me!” Blaze demands. “What’s going on?”
Steel’s voice lowers, thick with desperation. “Ollie and Evie were inside the building when it collapsed. They’re buried, Blaze. Completely fucking buried. I keep calling for them, but they’re not answering.”
The words slam into me like a freight train, stealing the air from my lungs. My chest tightens, and a sharp, suffocating panic grips me.
I can’t fucking breathe.
The room tilts, the edges of my vision going dark as dread sinks its claws deep into my soul. Fear, unlike anything I’ve ever known, consumes me, choking me with its ferocity.
“Grab him! Damnit, Mitchell, fucking stop!”
Hands grab at me, trying to hold me back, but I rip free, blind to everything except the deafening roar of my need to reach her. Nothing else matters. Not the storm. Not the danger.
Only Evie.
The thought of her trapped, hurt, or worse, ignites a terror so primal I feel like I’m unraveling. My knees threaten to give out, but I force myself to stay upright.
“Let go of me!” I bellow, my voice breaking as I shove them off. “I need to get to her!”
Please, God. Please let her be alive.
My heart pounds like a war drum, each beat screaming her name. Evie. My Evie.
I’ll tear through every last piece of rubble with my bare hands if I have to. I’ll find her. I have to.