Epilogue
Dimitri
I sit in the dark surrounded by the pale glow of a dozen monitors, each one showing a different angle of the world I’ve built my career dismantling. My focus stays locked on the screen showing the gate of the Kozlov compound, iron scrollwork and stone pillars caught in the wash of security lights.
Nothing moves yet, but they’ll come.
I recline, steepling my fingers beneath my chin as the chair creaks beneath me.
I can wait. I’m a patient man. That’s what separates me from the animals Roman Kozlov keeps on a leash. Those men who mistake violence for power and noise for strength.
I know better.
Real power sits quiet in rooms like this, watching, waiting, understanding exactly when to apply pressure and where.
The way my Kai does.
“Your mother’s necklace will be on the way soon. They’re coming, Boss.” I swivel in my chair, facing the masterpiece Kai’s hands brought to life.
She stands at a table pushed against the wall, between two banks of monitors. She keeps her back to me, her long white hair woven into a braid around her head like a crown. Her slender fingers freeze mid-motion above a crystal vase.
The blooms in that vase crowd the desk, roses and peonies and a flower with delicate white petals.
Kai—Anika Kozlov, forsaken daughter of Roman Kozlov—spins around. Her face catches the blue-white wash from the screens, which paints half her expression in cool light while shadows claim the rest. “Who will they send?” The rose trembles in her fingertips.
I know her well enough to understand what she’s really asking. Will the next person be someone who deserves what we’ve got in store for them?
“My guess?” I stare up at the ceiling and consider the remaining players, mulling over the way Roman Kozlov’s mind works when threatened. One name pops up ahead of the others. “Belov. Mad Max.”
The flower in her hand stops quaking. A single drop of blood wells up where a thorn pierced her thumb, though she doesn’t seem to notice.
She nods once as wrath transforms the soft lines of her face. “Good. I want to know the moment he leaves.”
She pivots, returning her attention to the bouquet. After studying the delicate petals for a long moment, she slides the thorny stem into the arrangement with surgical precision. The blood-red rose nestles between pale blooms, its thorns now hidden among the other, tamer species.
I allow myself the ghost of a smile as Kai exits the room.
Soon, Max will drive through those gates and fall into our web.
He sees himself as the predator. The hunter.
I wonder how long it will take him to realize he’s the one being hunted.
The End