Chapter 17 #2
"The North Depot?" Lev frowns. "That warehouse is a fortress, Boss. But it's empty. The Blackwoods barely used it."
"Moretti doesn't know that. Tomorrow, we start prepping it. We send trucks and heavy security. Clear the perimeter. Make it look like we're preparing a high-security vault to receive the 'Mystery Cargo' by land."
Lev nods. "You want them to think the ship is empty."
"I want them to think the ship is the distraction," I say. "Make them believe the real assets are being moved by land to the Depot. If they spend the next twelve days staring at the North Depot, wondering what we're hiding in there, they won't be looking at the harbor when the Anastasia slips in."
"It's a solid play," Lev admits, rubbing his chin. "But the Italians aren't amateurs. Just sending trucks won't convince them. They need to see something... or someone... that makes it real."
I turn to him and force the next words out.
"That’s why Helena is going."
Lev goes still. He sets his hand on the back of a chair, face tightening. "You're sending her out?"
"I have to," I say. "Moretti knows Helena's signature is the key to the empire now. If I send guards, he’ll ignore it, but if the Director of Operations goes there personally and signs off on the security upgrades, he'll believe it's critical."
"Konstantin," Lev says, his voice dropping low. "You’re painting a target on her back. If the Italians think she’s guarding what matters, they'll hit her."
"I’m removing the target!" I snap, slamming my hand on the desk. "The Harbor is going to be a war zone, Lev. If the Italians strike, they'll strike the water. They’ll burn the docks to get that ship. You want her here for that?"
"You lose her, you lose the company," Lev argues. "She’s the only reason the Council respects us right now. Sending her into the open—"
"The Depot isn't in the open. It's a fortress.” I cut him off. "It has reinforced walls, a perimeter fence, and it's twenty miles from the coast. It's the safest place for her."
"And the transit?" Lev challenges. "The twenty miles between here and there?"
"She’ll be in the Sentinel," I say.
Lev freezes, staring at me and blinking slowly. "The Sentinel? You're bringing out the tank?"
"I want her inside that Depot before the market opens," I say. "Route her through the Narrows."
"The Narrows?" Lev frowns. "That's a choke point, Boss. The Industrial Highway is faster."
"The Highway is too open," I say. "I'll have a construction crew block the on-ramp at 7:00 AM. Force all traffic onto the bridge. If the Italians are watching, I want them to see the Sentinel stuck in traffic. I want them to have a good, long look at the decoy."
Lev shakes his head, pacing away. "You only use the Sentinel for heads of state. Or for war. That thing screams 'high value target' from three blocks away."
"That’s exactly why she’s taking it," I say. "It sells the lie, Lev. When the Italians see that car enter the Depot, they won't think we are moving a wife. They'll think we are securing the asset."
"And if they decide to hit it?"
"They won't. They want the cargo, not a pile of burning scrap metal.
If they think the shipment is inside that Depot, they'll set up a perimeter. They’ll watch the walls, map the guards, and plan a siege to get the inventory out intact.
They'll spend the next twelve days obsessed with that building, wondering how to break in. "
I look back at the map, at the blue line of the Anastasia moving through the water.
"And while they are fixated on the Depot... the Anastasia slips into the harbor completely unnoticed."
"If they follow her, they leave the harbor exposed," Lev murmurs, working it out.
"Exactly," I say. "They can't be in two places at once. They’ll chase the shiny object. They’ll set up at the Depot and wait for a shipment that never comes. And in twelve days, when they finally realize the Depot is empty, it won't matter."
"Because the Anastasia will be docked," Lev realizes.
"Because we’ll be re-armed," I correct him, my voice cold. "By the time they look back at the harbor, we will have enough military-grade firepower to wipe the Italians off the map. We don't just win the shipment, Lev. We end the war."
Lev finally nods. He knows I’m right.
"I'll prep the tank," Lev says. "Eight AM."
"Get it done, Lev."
He walks to the door, then pauses, looking back. "It's a good plan, Boss. They won't know what hit them."
"No," I say, turning back to the map. "They won't."
The penthouse is silent when I get back. The lights are dimmed, the staff scarce.
I loosen my tie as I walk down the hallway to the master suite. My mind is still racing with tactical layouts. Twelve days. I just need twelve days.
I reach the double doors of the bedroom and push them open.
The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamps. The curtains are drawn, shutting out the world.
Helena stands by the window, her back to me. She’s taken off the velvet dress. It lies in a pool of dark fabric on the floor. She’s wearing one of my white dress shirts. It hangs off her small frame, hitting mid-thigh, the sleeves rolled past her elbows.
It should look ridiculous. Instead, it looks possessive.
She turns as I enter.
Her hair is loose, falling in dark waves around her face. Her makeup is smudged slightly from our kiss earlier.
The air in the room changes instantly as our gazes meet.
The strategic coldness I built up in the office evaporates.
"You took your time," she says softly.
I lock the door behind me.
"Strategy takes time," I say, walking toward her.
"Did you satisfy them?" she asks. "The old men?"
"For now," I say.
I stop a foot away from her. I can smell her scent, something uniquely her. It drugs me.
"And now?" she asks, stepping into my space. She reaches out, her cool fingers grazing the buttons of my shirt. "Who do you need to satisfy now, Konstantin?"
I catch her wrist and look down at her, searching her face.
Does she have any idea what I’m guarding her from? Does she know that while she stands here touching me, I’m calculating blast radii to keep her alive?
"You have work tomorrow," I say.
She pauses, fingers still on my chest. She frowns, sensing the shift. "Work?"
"The North Depot," I say. "I need you to go down there. Inspect the facility. Sign off on the security upgrades."
Her eyes narrow. She’s smart. She knows the North Depot is barely active.
"Why the North Depot?" she asks, tilting her head. "That warehouse has been collecting dust for years. Why send me there now?"
"Because we’re reactivating it," I lie. "With the Venezuelan deal moving, we need secure storage on land. The Harbor is too exposed. I need the facility ready."
"Send a site manager," she says, studying me. "Send Ivan. Why me?"
"Because it needs to be official," I say. "Your signature authorizes the retrofit. And..." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "It sends a message. It shows the city that Blackwood Shipping is expanding. That we’re strong."
"And you?" she asks. "Are you coming with me?"
"I can't," I say. "I have the secure call with the suppliers at nine. I have to confirm the numbers, or the deal falls through. I’m sorry. I have to be here."
She steps back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. The playfulness is gone.
"So you’re sending me alone?"
"I’m sending you with Lev," I say. "And a full detail. You’ll be in the Sentinel."
Helena squints, "The Sentinel? Do I even want to know…"
“It’s a tank.”
She freezes. Her eyes widen slightly. She must remember the car from the garage. The massive, blacked-out beast that sits apart from the other luxury cars.
"Since when do we use the armored transport for a warehouse inspection?" she asks, voice sharp.
"Since we started winning," I say.
"That car is a tank, Konstantin," she says, stepping closer. "Is there something you aren't telling me? Is there a threat?"
"There’s always a threat," I say, stepping closer, forcing my way into her space so she has to look up at me. "We are at war, and I don't take chances with my assets."
"Is that what I am?" she challenges. "An asset?"
"You are the only asset that matters," I say.
I cup her face, my thumbs tracing her cheekbones. I need her to stop asking questions. I need her to trust me, even though I’m lying to her face.
"Do this for me," I say. "Go to the Depot. Keep your head down. Let Lev handle the perimeter."
She searches my eyes. She’s looking for the lie. But she sees the intensity there, the raw need to keep her safe.
"Fine," she whispers. "I'll go."
I slide my hand down her throat, and her pulse jumps.
"One rule," I say. "You stay inside the vehicle until you are through the Depot gates. I don't care if there’s traffic or if the engine stalls. You don’t step out onto the street. You let Lev handle the road."
"I'm not going to jump out in moving traffic, Konstantin," she says, rolling her eyes slightly.
"Good," I say, gripping her chin gently. "Keep the doors locked. Keep the world out."
"Understood," she whispers.
I lean down, brushing my lips against her ear. "You are mine. I protect what’s mine."
I don't tell her about the Italians. She already knows they’re out there; she knows her father sold them the key. If I tell her the truth about the odds, she’ll freeze. She needs to walk into that Depot with her head high.
I sweep her up into my arms. She wraps her legs around me instantly, reclaiming her perch from earlier.
I carry her to the bed and toss her down, covering her body with mine.
I kiss her hard, tongue pushing into her mouth. My hands shove my shirt up and off her. The second she’s naked, I spread her legs and push inside her in one rough stroke.
She gasps and arches her back. Her nails dig into my shoulders.
I fuck her hard, the bed shaking under us. Her legs lock around my waist, pulling me deeper each time.
I press my mouth to her ear, breath hot.
She moans my name. I kiss her again, swallowing the sound, and keep going, claiming every part of her.
Later, when the room is dark and quiet, I lie awake.
Helena is asleep beside me, her head resting on my chest. Her hand is splayed over my heart, the sapphire ring catching a sliver of moonlight.
I reach out, hand hovering over her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin.
Twelve days. That is all I need.
Let them watch the Depot. Let them waste their time staring at the walls. By the time they realize they've been tricked, the Anastasia will be unloaded.
Arthur gave them the coordinates twenty years ago, but it was the Italians who lit the match. It was Moretti who burned my mother and sister alive in that convoy.
I’m not just bringing these weapons home to defend my territory. I’m bringing them home to slaughter the men who took my family.
I close my eyes, and I sleep like a King.