Chapter 49
Ilya
We’re surrounding the compound. A swirl of light falls from a black, starless sky. I watch as the flakes dance in the bright spotlights cast by the high, white lights that have been wired into the warehouses.
Beside me, Luka plays with a remote that is attached to a screen. Overhead, a drone flies. His eyes scan the screen as mine move back to the compound where a vehicle rolls up to the gate. It slides open and a car crawls over fresh white snow.
“Got her.” Luka says quietly. My eyes shift to the screen where two heat forms have been sensed. One appears to be much lower, as though it is sitting. And it’s small. The other is large and standing—towering over her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I relay the coordinates to Misha through the communication wire.
“Copy that,” Misha’s voice fills my earpiece. “Almost in place.”
I don’t respond. My eyes are scanning the building where my heart sits, beaten and abused.
My fingers curl into fists in my black tactical gloves.
Does she trust I’m coming for her? Does she know the ways I would set this world to flame and destruction for her?
Does she know the monster I’m capable of becoming in my quest to possess her again?
Inside the fence topped with razor wire, there are three old warehouses. Driving by no one would suspect anything about the fenced-in set-up. But if one were to take to the trees as I have, under the cover of night, they would find the guards that walk the property ominous.
So far, I’ve counted five. Two walk the fence-line and three circle a warehouse. All are armed.
They’re not just armed. They’re trained.
“In position,” Misha says.
“Give me another five,” Pavel responds, his breaths measured even as he trudges through snow. Heading the security, I keep around my own home, my trust in Pavel speaks for itself. But we know how easily the trusted can become the enemy.
Just look at Boris. I’d had him guarding the most precious being in my life. The woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The woman I want to become the mother of my children and bear the weight of my last name.
His betrayal is of the worst kind. He will pay painfully for it. Excruciatingly.
Gritting my teeth, I continue to study the lay of the land. The two guards who walk the fence cross paths close to the gate and in the back of the property, every time. I know. I’ve watched them connect three times.
I speak low into the mic pinned to my vest. “We take out the perimeter guards first.”
“Last sniper is in place.” Pavel’s voice comes through the line. His breaths are still measured, even though I sense he and his team are now running. He wants this over and done. Like the rest of us, Pavel is struggling with the guilt of not seeing the disloyal truth within one of our own. Now, an innocent has been taken.
We all know what Popov does to the innocent. Death would be a mercy.
The perimeter fence isn’t only manned, it’s armed. Live with enough voltage to kill a man in just one touch during the nighttime hours. The control panel that powers the entire system is in the warehouse at the far east side of the lot, which is why Pavel, my security expert, is headed that way.
It’s also the building that holds her.
But I’m not the one with the expertise to disable the fence and all the alarms that might sound when the electricity to the fence is cut.
It feels fucking wrong not to be there, close to her.
The need to be close to her, to have her in my arms where she is safe, is an itch I can’t scratch.
It’s uncomfortable and infuriating. It’s enough to drive a man crazy.
Pavel comes through again. “All set.”
“Fucking finally,” Misha hisses into the line.
“We’re good to cut the fence?”
“Yes,” Pavel confirms.
“Take out the guards.” I give the order and watch as the guard closest to me falls. I know on the other side of the property, that guard falls, too.
Then I give my man a nod. “Cut the fence.” To the back of the property and the east, I know the men are giving the same order to their teams.
It doesn’t take long, but the minutes drag as I wait for the time I can finally slip through the fence onto the property. Adrenaline soars through my veins, a foreign feeling to me that has blood roaring between my ears. The need to be closer to her consumes me.
An unsuspecting guard steps around the building, and I aim my raised gun a moment before I fire. He falls heavy to the ground, red a harsh splash against the white.
Misha giggles into the line as an unhinged, “Got one,” sounds a moment before Pavel says, “Down.”
I swing two fingers in the direction of Dimitri, who holds the bomb. “Blow the door.”
At the back of the warehouse, Misha gives the same order. On the other two warehouses, a team of men wait to kill. They’ll come running when they hear the commotion. And for it, they will die.
“I want Ivan alive,” I say into the mic. “Kill everyone else.”
“With pleasure,” comes Misha’s reply, a moment before Pavel’s, “Painfully.”
I take cover crouched in the snow behind a concrete pillar as the bomb is set at the door. We could just storm the place, guns blazing, but there’s nothing quite like the surprise of an explosion to really fuck people up.
“We’re set,” I tell the men.
“Ditto,” Misha returns.
Counting down from three, the detonation blows the doors inward, descending the night into chaos.
My team invades.
Men bark orders and bullets begin to fly.
My eyes scan the warehouse for any sign of Ivan as I make my way into the direction of the room where Luka confirmed she’s being kept. It’s a concrete room, so she should be safe from stray bullets as long as her door stays closed.
A pockmarked man stumbles from a side room, gun raised, but not aimed. His eyes are bloodshot, and his face is mean. Cruel. It’s probably the mug more than one woman has seen in her end. I lift my gun and shoot, blowing his face clean off. Stepping into the room, I do a sweep. There’s no one else, but computer screens line a messily kept desk. A bottle of vodka is uncapped next to a mostly polished glass. On a still lit phone, a porn video plays.
My lip curls.
I turn and leave the room. If he’d been doing his job rather than trying to jack off, we might not have had the upper hand we have right now.
Fucking idiot.
“Misha’s been hit.”
“How bad?” I’m moving along the wall that will take me to Irelynn, my focus singular.
“It’s a flesh wound.” I can practically hear Misha’s eye roll.
“He’s dripping blood steadily.” Pavel’s reply is dry.
“Popov is here. Pig is trying to run from the slaughter.” Misha releases another unhinged laugh. The man becomes a fucking psycho during war.
I think of chasing down Popov and executing him, but torture is much more appealing. My heart thunders. Again, the feeling is foreign. But the thought of bringing the man who took what is mine to his knees makes me feel.
She makes me feel.
It’s all for her. At the end of the day, everything is for her.
“I want him alive, Misha,” I warn, moving along the wall and closer to the door that will bring me to her.
Battle rages around me. Bullets fly, knives sink into flesh, and the sound of the pained moans of men fill the space.
The door to her room opens and Boris emerges, letting it fall closed behind him. The instant his eyes see me, they widen.
There’s a reason I put him in the position to watch over and protect Irelynn. He’s fast, and he’s good. With training like his, the man is a machine. A deadly opponent.
He kicks into fight mode easily, his foot lifting to connect with my hand that holds my gun, taking advantage of my moment of distraction as I craned my neck to see into the room where Irelynn was being kept.
The gun clatters to the floor, and we mirror each other’s moves as we both reach for our blades. But I’m the one to strike first, stabbing forward with my blade hand. His eyes fall to the threat, missing the other that I swing to connect with the side of his face. The loud crack is a sure sign I’ve broken bone somewhere.
“That’s for the bruise on her face.”
He sneers. “I didn’t put that there.”
“You brought her here. Everything that has happened to her is because of you.”
“No.” Boris shakes his head. “It’s because of you. If you’d left her alone in New York, she’d still be there in that shit apartment, working her shit job, safe. But you took her. You brought her into this war.” He spits blood onto the floor. “War is never pretty.”
“Who is he to you?”
“Who?”
“Popov. How’d he get to you? How’d he flip you?”
Boris laughs, but it’s a tired thing. “I’ve always been with him. From the very beginning. I’m his son.”
I see it the moment he says it. The resemblance is there in the wide set of his forehead and the dark of his eyes.
Fucking hell.
“Did you really think Ivan was the one turning all your men?” He gives another shake of his head. “I was there, always. I watched. I turned those who were easily bought, easily swayed. I’m the reason for the betrayal at your port in L.A. I’m the reason Laurent thought he could skim from the clubs after years of loyalty. I’m the reason he thought you were too fucking stupid to notice. I’m the reason that the Volkov Bratva has been going to shit since the true Pakhan retired, leaving you in his place.” He squares his shoulders. “And I’m going to be the one who takes over the Popov Bratva. I’m going to be the one who finally takes your family down.” He grips his blade tighter, his stance widening as he readies for the fight of his life. “And I’m going to start with you. But I want you to know something.”
“What’s that?”
“Her pussy won’t be sold. It’s too good, too sweet for that. When you’re dead and her world is turned inside out, I’m going to be there to put the pieces back together. Her pussy is going to be mine, and mine alone.”
This bastard might be a fucking ninja, but he’s a dead fucking ninja.
I say nothing as I strike, kicking out to hook his foot with mine. The man is a big man, and he tumbles forward, stumbling to catch his footing. I could kill him, stab him in the gut, slicing upward, and watch as his insides spill out onto the poured concrete. But I don’t. As much as I want to get to Irelynn, I need this to last. Just a little.
I sink my blade into his thigh, reveling in the hissed breath he inhales. He retaliates with a swipe of his own blade, snagging the vest in his attempt to carve out my heart.
His attack has him close enough that I’m able to slam my fist into his big, meaty face. I slam it in again, and again, and again. I hit him until skin purples and splits. Until blood pours and his eyes swell.
Then, as he lays under me, I laugh. It’s unhinged and clearly shocks him, because his swollen eye widens. He’s been beside me as I’ve taken lives. Countless lives. Apart from the fucking serial killer I’d hunted for Nevaeh, I’ve taken every life with a methodical silence that scares the piss out of the men I’m ending, literally.
He wasn’t expecting this maniacal beast from the void he unleashed when he took her from me. When he threatened to take her for himself.
“You deserve to die the death of a traitor.” My blade stuns him as I sink it deep into his gut where he lays beneath me on the concrete now, swollen and bleeding, but still conscious and able to gasp for air. “A slow death.” I rip the blade upward, slicing through his torso with a viciousness of something born from the bowels of the underworld. “But I need to make sure she’s still alive and well, so I need this to be quick.” I pull the blade from his belly and slam it into his heart.
His body gives one big, bucking throb. Then he is still.
I stand over him long enough to wipe my blade and shove it into its holster. Next, I reach for my fallen gun. Then I move to the door. It’s unlocked, and she’s inside. With the war raging on the other side of the door, I move quickly toward her. She’s slumped in the chair, unmoving.
With the same blade I’d killed her kidnapper with, I cut through the ties that bind her. Her beautiful skin is swollen and red. Small cuts where the rope rubbed her skin raw are crusted over with dried blood.
New rage flares inside me with every tie I cut, and then I gather her into my arms.
Speaking into the mic, I say roughly, “I’ve got her. I need cover.”
“On it,” Luka says, and I hear his breaths as he runs toward the room. “I’m here.”
I carry the woman I love more than my own life into the chaos of a deadly war. Luka covers me as I run, bullets flying, into the night.