Chapter 34 Nik
NIK
We have an approximate location.
The taxi crawls through a maze of crumbling, empty buildings. Their windows are like black eyes staring down at us.
My hands grip the seat so tight my knuckles ache, and my stomach’s twisted into a permanent knot.
Two hours.
Two long, suffocating hours.
The cabbie drops us off at a building on the edge of a dead street.
No security in sight.
Perfect.
I glance at Dom, and he nods. We move along the shadowed line of abandoned structures.
I catch the glint of eye reflections in the dark first. Then shoulders shift, shadows peeling away from brick and rusted scaffolding.
The Barkov men.
Already here. Already waiting.
They’re scattered like wolves, every one of them poised for the kill, their presence coiled and silent, waiting for the order.
One crouches on a rooftop, rifle angled low. Another lingers at the corner, hand hidden beneath his jacket, eyes locked on the warehouse doors. They don’t twitch until Dom lifts a hand.
“Down,” he mouths.
The shadows obey. Snipers melt back into the skyline. Ground men press themselves into alcoves, swallowed by brick and rust.
Dom leans in close, whispers. “They’re ready, boss. One word, and this place is ours.”
My jaw tightens. “We do this clean. My signal only.”
Dom nods, relaying the command through his phone. “Ghost formation. Stay low. Wait for Barkov.”
Static silence follows. No arguments. They know who’s in charge tonight.
My blood pounds like war drums. Vince won’t walk away from this.
I adjust my grip on the sidearm. Loaded and ready. Dominic keeps his weapon holstered, eyes locked on the coordinates glowing on his phone. He tips his chin, guiding me toward the lone building hunched at the end of the block.
The black Mercedes gleams against the wall, smug in its stillness.
Leanna could be inside. Or worse, broken somewhere behind those steel doors.
My gut twists.
“That’s it,” I whisper.
Dom raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. He knows. Leanna’s roommates had said she was thrown into the trunk of a black Mercedes. This has to be the one.
But the thought claws at me, what if she’s already gone? What if she’s hurt so badly she can’t bear to be alive?
My chest tightens. My jaw aches from clenching it so hard. I hate that I can’t just storm in and save her.
“Stay in control. One step at a time,” Dom mutters.
I try to breathe, but every inhale feels like pulling air through cement.
My heart hammers a brutal rhythm against my ribs.
Why did I let her walk out?
Why didn’t I just stop her?
Why didn’t I follow through with my plan and just take her, lock her up? At least she’d have been safe.
Pissed. Hating me. But alive.
The fire escape on the side of the building catches Dom’s eye. “There, our way in,” he murmurs.
We move like shadows, crouching low. We climb the rusty metal ladder, and the catwalk creaks under us as we reach the second floor, overlooking a massive warehouse.
The stench of blood hits me first. My nerves are strung so tight, they feel like they’ll snap.
And then I hear the fuckface’s voice.
Vincenzo’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, sharp and vicious.
“The whore had a bag packed. Money, clothes, fake IDs. She betrayed us and was about to run.”
A pause. My pulse drums in my ears.
“I don’t know why the Barkov fucker would run, too.”
“No, no sign of him at all. I’d want to chew the Russian’s head off.”
Barkov.
My blood runs cold.
Did she tell him? Did she warn him?
Did she even think of me?
Then rage explodes out of him, wild and ugly.
“Don’t you fucking tell me otherwise!” He roars into the phone, the sound echoing through the warehouse, before smashing it against concrete, shattering into pieces that scatter across the floor.
And then he turns toward Leanna.
I let out a nearly inhuman growl in response to what I see. Leanna is strapped to a chair, head lolled back, blood streaming from a long gash on the side of her face, one eye nearly swollen shut.
I can see the effort it takes just to breathe.
Vincenzo doesn’t even give her a second to gather herself. He slams his hands against the wall, voice jagged with rage.
“Talk! Tell me what he knows! What did you tell Barkov? What does Barkov know? Why were you running? Was he with you?”
Every fiber in me wants to spring forward, begging me to move. My fists clench so tight my nails cut into my palms. I want to leap down, rip him apart with my bare hands to end this nightmare.
Who would do this to a family member, let alone his little sister?
My Ana.
“Wait,” Dominic hisses beside me. “Let me get a good look first.”
Patience is not one of my finest characteristics.
I don’t want to wait. My blood is already pounding, hot and violent, screaming for release.
Every instinct I have wants me to tear through the warehouse and put a bullet through Vincenzo’s skull before he can hurt her again.
Dom’s hand clamps on my arm firmly. He leans closer, voice low.
“You have to wait. One wrong move and she’s dead before you reach her.”
He’s right.
But knowing doesn’t make the fire inside me burn any less.
Vincenzo prowls the floor, rambling about fake IDs and money. His voice rises as he yells, “Where were you and Barkov running off to?”
No answer from her. That silence sets him off.
He claws at his hair with both hands, screaming again like a banshee unraveling.
My body is tense. I want to leap down from the catwalk and snap the fucker’s neck. Dominic’s arm cuts across my chest like a steel bar. He doesn’t need to speak; he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Vince leans in close, screaming into Leanna’s bloodied face. “Tell me the truth, you fucking traitor! What did you tell Nikolai Ivanov? Why were you with him? What does he know about our operations?”
To her credit, Leanna lifts her head, battered but defiant. A crooked, bloody smile twists her lips. She coughs, blood dripping down her chin, but her voice slices the air.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Vince. All that posturing at the meetings? You handed Barkov the advantage with your stupidity. Not me. You.”
His face contorts. “Don’t you dare—”
“You call me a traitor, coward? And you? You’re nothing but a sore loser,” she interrupts, spitting blood onto the floor. “You couldn’t handle losing, could you?”
His roar shakes the walls, looming over her. “You think words can save you? You think mouthing off makes you strong?”
She blinks through the swelling, still smirking. She wheezes, coughing through the pain. “I tried to stay out of all this, but you… You couldn’t let it go, always hunting power, always after revenge. Pathetic.”
“You little—” His hand cracks across her face, snapping her head sideways. Blood spatters. She laughs anyway, hoarse and broken, but laughing.
The sound unravels him. “You’ll pay for this,” he snarls. “When I’m done, everyone will see you failed. Dad. The Campisis. All of them.”
Leanna lifts her head, all bloodied and bruised, but still managing a defiant glare. “Then let them watch. I’ll still be standing… even if you’re too dumb to see it.”
His fury detonates.
He drives his fist into her solar plexus. The chair topples, slamming onto concrete. Her head cracks against the floor with a sickening thud. She gasps, trying to draw air into her winded lungs.
He kicks her in the ribs. Then hauls the chair upright again. She vomits, body shaking from the impact.
Where the fuck is Antonio Campisi?
That’s it.
Rage consumes me. I’m ready to end him.
But movement in the doorway freezes me.
Don Campisi in his cool grey suit.
I see the look of rage on his face as he makes his entrance.
Everything shifts.