Chapter 77
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
Drago
I shift in my seat, my gaze landing on Tatiana’s man. He looks down at his watch, then back to me with a smirk. It makes my jaw tense.
“Would you be opposed to my focusing on the drug trade? Wouldn’t that step on your toes?” the decoy Preacher suggests.
Declan scoffs. “There are plenty of substances we don’t deal in. You can take your pick of those.”
He chews on his lip before taking another drag of his cigar.
This is a fucking joke. A complete waste of time. One that needs to be wrapped up. Because I fear they’re now stalling, especially since Tatiana’s man keeps checking the time.
Something is wrong. Something is deeply wrong. My skin is burning. My legs are twitching, telling me to fucking run.
Declan stands and rounds the table, Conan close on his tail. The two men shake hands on the peace deal.
I stand, clearing my throat. “I’ll go and get the contract drawn up.”
The fake Preacher nods to Tatiana’s man, who stands with a grin. “I’ll send one of my men with you. I don’t trust you.”
“Fine,” I grunt.
I lead him out of the doors to the small office to my left. He leaves the door open behind him as I head to the wooden desk in the middle.
A basic, already printed contract lies in the middle.
I pick up a pen and fill in the blanks with the deal terms, feeling Tatiana’s guy’s eyes on me the entire time.
The pen scratches across paper in the quiet, and it’s the only sound in the room. It makes everything feel too still. Too contained. Like the air itself is waiting.
I glance up. He’s shifting on his feet. I don’t react or let his energy throw me off.
He takes a step towards me, and I stand up straight, emphasizing our height difference. Reminding him he’s in my territory, not Tatiana’s.
“Tatiana would like her end of the deal now,” he tells me in Russian, holding out his hand.
I round the desk, stopping in front of him. “Deal’s off. Tell her she can have it when she delivers me the real Preacher,” I tell him back in Russian.
His wild grin returns, a cackle escaping from him. “Tatiana always holds up her end of the deal, Drago.”
I frown. There is no way in hell that the man in there is the real Preacher. I’d bet my life on that.
But this one…
This one is acting like he already knows something I don’t. Like he’s watching a play he’s already read the ending to.
His gaze flicks past me, toward the open door. Toward the hallway beyond.
My blood turns sharp.
“Why do you keep checking the time?” I ask quietly in Russian.
His smirk twitches, just a fraction, then he shrugs. “As if you don’t know,” he murmurs.
And the words land like a blade between my ribs. Because in that moment, I understand exactly what he means.
This isn’t about the peace deal. It isn’t about drugs. It isn’t about territory. It’s about timing.
He’s counting down because something is happening elsewhere.
Something planned. Something coordinated.
A single name flashes through my head so fast it barely feels like a thought.
Lily.
Tatiana’s man leans in slightly, just enough that his breath hits my cheek, his voice turning amused.
“Too late,” he whispers.
My watch buzzes on my wrist.
Three short buzzes. Only set to go off with one app. For one person entering.
His eyes darken, like he fucking knows. Like he’s been waiting for that exact vibration.
And then it clicks.
I react without thinking. One hand muffling his mouth, the other squeezing his throat as I push him into the cobbled wall.
“Where the fuck is the real Preacher?” I growl.
His eyes stay locked on mine. Not pleading. Not panicked. Almost satisfied.
“Cunt,” I snarl. “You’ll be my message back to Tatiana. She wants that fucking necklace; she can come and get it.”
With that, I twist his neck, snapping it in one move, and silently lower him onto the ground.
Taking a deep breath, I check my watch, already knowing what I’m about to see.
LILY HAS ENTERED PANIC ROOM.
And like that, I slip back into the man I used to be. Keeping calm, despite my body burning with rage.
With fear for the woman I love more than life itself. For our baby. That’s why I have to do this right.
Grabbing the contract, I take the handgun from the drawer of the desk and screw on the silencer.
Lily is safe in that room. That is one absolute certainty. It’s designed for that exact reason. But she wouldn’t be in there unless Lev ordered it. Which means he saw something. Which means I’m already too late, or I’m about to be.
My steps are heavy as I calmly walk back into the meeting room, the paperwork concealing my weapon.
I stop behind Declan, dropping the contract in front of him. “Trust me,” I whisper to him before straightening.
Declan doesn’t question me. He doesn’t hesitate. He just shifts slightly, Conan mirroring him, both of them instantly alert.
And then I aim. I take clean head shots of the three men beside the decoy.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even breathe. His eyes go wide when I set my aim on him. “Suffering is the price of salvation,” he says, almost like a prayer.
I don’t hesitate. I pull the trigger and watch the blood splatter, knowing Enzo has heard all of this.
Tatiana has delivered the Preacher. That’s all that replays in my head.
And I need to fucking get home.