Matteo
Iwatch it all from my car.
See them close in behind her.
The second Lindsay senses them, her posture shifts. Controlled. Alert. No panic. No wasted movement. Smart girl.
But not fast enough.
My jaw locks when she reaches her car and one of them grabs her from behind. The other moves instantly after. Efficient. Coordinated. Whoever sent them paid for professionals.
Big mistake.
The gun comes out, and everything inside me goes cold.
The hit lands hard against the side of her head and she drops before she can fight back. My hand tightens around the steering wheel hard enough for the leather to groan beneath my grip.
One thought moves through my head with terrifying clarity.
Touch her again and I’ll bury every last one of you myself.
They drag her unconscious body toward a dark sedan parked down the street. One man checks the area before shoving her into the backseat like she’s cargo.
My pulse slows instead of rising.
Calm. Precise. Deadly.
Panic gets people killed. Planning keeps them alive.
I could move now. Put bullets in all three of them before they reach the car.
But I don’t know who else is watching.
Don’t know who ordered this.
And I’m not starting a war blind. Not when Lindsay Beaumont is now at the center of it.
The sedan pulls away, and I wait three seconds before following.
Far enough back to avoid suspicion. Close enough that if they hurt her again, I’ll paint the road with blood before sunrise.
The city begins to thin around us. Streetlights disappear one by one until darkness swallows the road whole. Buildings give way to trees and empty stretches of land.
Good.
No witnesses.
The sedan finally turns onto a narrow gravel road hidden between thick lines of trees. Remote. Private. The kind of place men bring bodies when they don’t plan on anyone finding them.
A slow smile pulls at my mouth.
They think they’re hunters tonight.
They have no idea whose asset they’re fucking with.
I slow, cutting the lights of my car before I reach the turn. From here, I continue on foot.
The trees are dense enough to cover movement, the ground is uneven. I keep my distance, tracking sound and the faint glow of their headlights as they push deeper into the property. The house comes into view gradually.
It’s old, but not abandoned. I’m sure it was a nice place once upon a time. Now it’s sitting quiet and removed from everything around it. They pull up near the side entrance. I stop just beyond the tree line and watch, waiting. They carry her inside.
I count seconds. Minutes. My breathing steady and my pulse controlled. Everything in me is still.
When Lindsay wakes up, I’m already in position. Close enough to hear, far enough to remain unseen. She’s in a chair, hands bound. Her head tilts slightly to the side where they struck her. She takes it in quickly. The room, the exits. The men.
My gaze lingers on her face. I think I’m expecting her to scream, to show fear. But she doesn’t. And I’m impressed.
Instead, defiance crosses her expression. I exhale slowly. If I wasn’t here, that look would have gotten her killed in seconds.
But I’m here, and I would never let them kill her.
There are three of them right now. The third stands apart from the others, with a different posture. Controlled. The others defer to him without realizing it. I recognize him. One of the Pakhan’s lieutenants. But something is off.
They’re shifty. Almost like they’re not supposed to be here.
This little hunt probably wasn’t sanctioned, which makes sense.
Everything aside, Lindsay’s the mayor’s daughter.
And while the old man might be a snake, he has considerable power in this city.
That’s how he rose to his position in the first place.
And as his daughter, she should have been protected by that influence and wealth.
Fuck, why didn’t I put men on her? We may not be… anything but we are something and I need to make sure that she’s safe. This won’t happen again.
The lieutenant, Morozov, steps closer to her, crouching just enough to meet her eye level.
“Hello, Ms. Beaumont,” he says, his accent thick but his tone measured. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But you’ve been causing us trouble.”
She doesn’t respond. Just watches him like he’s a wild animal that should be caged.
“You will answer me,” Morozov grits out. “How far along is your case? What do you have on us?”
Silence. Then—
“You brought me all the way out here for questions?” she says, voice steady despite the situation. “You could have just called. Much more civilized.”
I almost let out a smile at that. This woman is incredible.
One of the men shifts, the one that knocked her out. He’s clearly irritated.
“She thinks this is a joke,” he mutters.
The lieutenant doesn’t react immediately. He studies her for a couple of seconds.
“She thinks,” the lieutenant replies calmly, “that we will not kill her.”
His eyes return to hers, and she tilts her head slightly, shrugs. “Actually, I am quite sure you’re going to kill me. I’m just not going to let you take any satisfaction in it.”
The men share a look, obviously thrown off by her reaction. A calm victim isn’t one they feel comfortable with. She’s making them uneasy.
I watch the lieutenant straighten slowly, the shift in his posture subtle but clear.
“You will tell me what you know,” he says.
“No. I won’t, but I can tell you that my father has my location at all times and my car has video surveillance, so it won’t be difficult to find any of you if anything happens to me.”
He spits, and I almost spring into action.
My grip tightens where I stand. My patience thins, and so does Morozov’s. The tension in the room changes.
“Well, then you die,” Morozov states, reaching for his gun.
He aims, and that’s when I move. Morozov goes down before he even understands what’s happening. A single shot. It’s clean and silent. It’s easy to haul myself through the open window I’d been watching the interaction through.
I land on my feet stealthily. The one who approached her first by her car turns, but he’s too slow.
I close the distance before he can react, my hand catching his wrist, twisting hard enough to hear the joint give before I drive the knife in.
Once. Twice. My gun slides into my hand with ease and I shoot without hesitation. He falls to the ground as well, dead.
And now for the last one. His death, I’m going to enjoy. There’s terror and shock in his expression. He fires his gun and the bullet misses. It’s a good thing I never miss though.
My shot hits his arm, the gun falling from his grip as he stumbles back, shock flashing across his face. I’m on him before he recovers. He tries to speak but I don’t let him. My hand closes around his throat, forcing him down, my other hand bracing as I drive my knee into his chest.
Something cracks and he gasps. I lean in slightly.
“Look at her head,” I say quietly, turning him so he’s facing Lindsay. There’s a bruise forming on the side of her face from where the bastard hit her. Rage cracks beneath my skin at the sight. She’s still bound and is utterly still, her face frozen.
“You shouldn’t have touched her.” I growl.
Then I break his neck. The sound is final. I hear a small, strangled gasp. And then the room goes still. Utterly silent.
I straighten, turn. And look at her. Up close, the details are clearer. The bruise forming at her temple. The slight tension in her shoulders. Her posture still hasn’t collapsed. She’s staring at me with wide, horrified eyes.
Something in my chest tightens. I step closer, pulling the knife free to cut the restraints at her wrists.
The rope falls away. She rubs her wrists once she’s free.
Her eyes still haven’t left the dead men on the floor.
She doesn’t look at me. She just sits there and she stares at the carnage I’ve caused.
“Lindsay,” I say her name carefully, softly.
She jerks at the sound, whirling around as her eyes find mine. My chest threatens to cave in at the sight. She gets to her feet, and I have no idea what she’s thinking. I open my mouth to speak, to ask if she’s okay, but I don’t get the chance to.
She takes one look at me and then she’s bolting right out the door. I exhale a heavy breath. Before following, I look around the room. I take the time to grab her phone, which is lying beside the chair she was tied to.
It doesn’t take long to catch up to her. She doesn’t run far. I find her in the middle of a forked path, properly considering which one to take.
“Where are you going, princess?” I ask softly.
“Away from you,” she replies without turning around.
That hurts more than I’ll ever admit aloud.
“At least tell me how you’re feeling. Turn around.”
Surprisingly, she does. Her eyes meet mine first, then they shift downwards, almost like she’s cataloging every inch of me.
“You don’t have a speck of blood on you,” she breathes. “You just brutally murdered three men and there’s not a shred of evidence of it on you.”
I don’t reply to that, my gaze careful and assessing. She still looks calm, eerily calm.
“Do you have any idea how depraved that was? You broke that man’s neck like a twig,” she continues. “It’s sick!”
Her words sting, but I continue to watch her quietly.
“Do you have nothing to say?” she says, her voice rising.
My jaw clenches. “I saved your life.”
“And I’m supposed to thank you?” she seethes. “I never asked you to murder those men. I didn’t ask for anything!”
“And if I left you alone, what do you think would have happened?”
“I’m specially trained in negotiation. I could have—I could have talked them out of it!”
“Are you na?ve or simply stupid? They were hardened criminals that would have sliced your pretty skin and laughed about it. They were about to kill you.”
“That doesn’t mean you should have murdered them! Especially not like that. You could have used non-lethal force. After that display, I’m sure you’re capable. Shoot them where it’ll hurt like a bitch and then leave them alive to pay for their crimes in the right way!”