Chapter 14 – Mike #2
I pull back before the kiss can turn into something that would make it very difficult for either of us to think clearly.
Her lips are still slightly parted when I brush my thumb across her cheek.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur. My voice drops softer, more intimate. “And don’t get tired of me yet, Ellie.” I rest my forehead briefly against hers. “Because I’ll always come back to you.”
***
The next day, I leave the estate at exactly six in the evening.
The departure is deliberately ordinary.
Two guards walk beside me as I cross the courtyard. Sergei stands near the entrance, speaking with one of the men from logistics. When he notices me approaching, he straightens slightly.
“Boss,” he says.
I hand him a folder as I pass.
“Sergei, I need you to review the port shipment records tonight,” I say casually. “There are discrepancies in the customs documentation. I want them fixed before morning.”
He takes the folder without question, already flipping it open.
“That could take hours,” he says.
“That’s why I’m giving it to you,” I reply, clapping his shoulder once. “I’m heading to the 1401 warehouse to survey and see how we can pick operations back up.”
“Yes, Boss.”
The task is intentional. Detailed. Time-consuming. Just enough to ensure he has a reason not to accompany me without suspecting anything.
I slide into the backseat of my car. The doors shut. The engine hums to life.
As we pull out of the gates, I glance briefly through the tinted glass.
Sergei is still standing there, watching us leave.
Good.
The first fifteen minutes of the drive go exactly as expected.
We follow the usual route toward the highway, the estate disappearing behind us as the city lights begin to glow against the evening sky.
Then we reach the intersection where everything changes.
A black sedan waits near the corner.
As we slow, the vehicles align just long enough for the switch.
I step out.
Dimitri slides into the backseat of my car while Konstantin moves to the passenger side. The transition takes less than twenty seconds.
My original car drives off again immediately.
Same plates.
Same tinted glass.
From the outside, nothing looks different.
Anyone watching would assume I’m still inside.
But I’m already stepping into the second vehicle Dimitri prepared earlier, identical down to the smallest detail.
I watch my decoy car disappear into traffic.
“Good luck, boys,” I murmur quietly.
Then we drive away in the opposite direction.
Fifteen minutes later, my phone vibrates.
Konstantin.
I answer immediately.
“They took the bait,” he says.
Gunfire cracks faintly through the receiver before the line muffles. A burst of shouting follows.
Then Konstantin’s voice again, calm as ever.
“Three vehicles attempted interception. But they’ve been neutralized.”
I exhale slowly.
“Anyone alive?” I ask.
“Nope. They refused to squeak.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “Don’t worry. Timofey is on it. He’ll call me any second now.”
We end the call.
My phone rings again almost immediately.
Timofey.
I answer before the second ring finishes.
“What do you have for me?”
“I intercepted their communications during the attack,” he says. His voice is sharp with adrenaline. “They were receiving live instructions mid-operation.”
“From who?”
A brief pause.
Then:
“I traced the signal straight back to Sergei’s encrypted device. Real time, Mike. No intermediaries. No relay nodes. It was him.”
Proof.
The final piece.
My jaw tightens as I stare out the window at the passing lights of the city.
“Thank you.”
I end the call and lean back in the seat, my mind completely clear.
No anger.
No hesitation.
Just certainty.
“Turn the car around,” I tell the driver calmly.
We head back toward the estate.
By the time we arrive, I already know exactly what I’m going to do. As much as every instinct in me wants to go upstairs and find Ellie—to see her, touch her, reassure her that the plan worked—I don’t.
Not yet.
There’s something that needs to be finished first.
I step out of the car and head straight inside.
“Get Sergei,” I say to the nearest group of guards.
They freeze for a second.
“Bring him to the basement.”
The men exchange startled glances.
Sergei isn’t just another soldier. He’s one of my senior commanders. For years, he’s been treated like family inside these walls.
But they know my tone.
And they know better than to question it.
“Yes, Boss.”
They move immediately.
I don’t wait to watch them go. I walk down the corridor, past the main hall, past the stairwell that leads upstairs to my suite.
Instead, I take the narrow staircase that descends beneath the house.
The basement is quiet.
Cold concrete walls. Steel doors. Dim lighting.
The kind of place where truths are forced out of people.
I walk into the central room and sit down at the metal desk facing the reinforced chair bolted to the floor.
Then I open the network.
Our internal system links every major member of the organization. It’s where intelligence reports, operational briefings, and strategic updates are distributed.
Tonight, it will carry something else.
I upload everything.
The warehouse override logs.
The offshore transfers Timofey uncovered.
The intercepted communications during the ambush.
The falsified shipment route Sergei leaked.
Every piece of proof.
I attach the final evidence last: the real-time trace from Sergei’s encrypted device during the attack on my decoy car.
Beneath the files, I write only one line.
Traitor identified.
Then I publish it.
Within seconds, notifications begin lighting up across the network. Commanders, lieutenants, and captains opening the files.
Seeing the evidence.
Watching Sergei’s reputation collapse in real time.
By the time I close the laptop, the entire organization already knows.
The door behind me opens.
Heavy footsteps echo down the corridor.
Sergei is dragged into the room between two guards. His hands are bound, his expression tight with confusion and anger.
They force him into the chair.
He looks at me like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“Boss,” he says slowly, glancing at the restraints on his wrists. “What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment?”
His voice carries just the right mixture of indignation and wounded loyalty.
It would almost be convincing.
If I didn’t already know the truth.
I lean back slightly in my chair, studying him.
For a moment, I say nothing.
Then I slide the laptop across the metal table toward him.
“Take a look,” I say quietly.
Sergei stares at the laptop for a moment, clearly unsure whether to humor me or continue pretending ignorance. “Boss, I don’t understand what this—”
“Look,” I repeat.
My voice is quiet.
He finally lowers his gaze.
At first, he scans the screen casually, the way a man does when he’s certain nothing there concerns him.
Then his eyes slow.
His shoulders stiffen as he scrolls.
The room becomes very still.
Sergei doesn’t breathe for several seconds.
I watch the moment the realization hits him.
The exact second the mask breaks.
His eyes flick up to mine.
For the first time since he entered the room, the confidence is gone.
“You…” he says slowly. “You’ve been watching me.”
“For a while,” I reply.
His jaw tightens. He looks back at the screen, as if hoping the evidence will somehow rearrange itself into something less damning.
But the proof is absolute.
Every file.
Every record.
Every betrayal laid out in cold detail.
“Boss…” he starts.
Then he stops.
The word boss sounds strange coming from him now.
He looks at me again, and something shifts in his expression. The anger drains away, replaced by something far more desperate.
“Mike,” he says quietly.
I say nothing.
“Listen to me,” he continues quickly. “I made a mistake. A stupid one. I thought I could control the situation. I thought I could use them, take their money, feed them small pieces of information—nothing that would hurt you.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“The sniper attack?” I ask.
He swallows. “That…got out of hand.”
Out of hand.
The words echo in the room like a joke.
Sergei leans forward as far as the restraints allow.
“Mike, I’ve been with you for years,” he says urgently. “I built half this organization beside you. I fought for you. Bled for you. You know that.”
I watch him calmly.
“You can’t throw that away over one mistake.”
“One mistake,” I repeat.
“Yes,” he insists quickly. “Give me a chance to fix it. I’ll hunt down every man I worked with. I’ll dismantle their network myself. I swear it. Just—” His voice cracks slightly. “Just give me a second chance.”
Silence fills the basement.
I lean forward slowly, resting my elbows on the metal table.
For a moment, Sergei looks hopeful.
Like he thinks I’m actually considering it.
Then I speak.
“Never.”
The word lands like a hammer.
Sergei’s face tightens.
“I don’t forgive traitors,” I continue evenly. “Not once. Not ever. I don’t care how long they served me. Loyalty isn’t something you borrow and then return when it’s convenient.”
I gesture toward the laptop.
“You sold me to my enemies.”
His breathing becomes heavier now.
“And worse,” I add quietly, “you came after my wife.”
The room grows colder.
“So no, Sergei,” I finish. “There is no second chance.”
For a second, he just stares at me.
Then something ugly twists across his face.
The desperation vanishes.
What replaces it is pure hatred.
He leans forward suddenly and spits.
The saliva lands on the front of my shirt.
The guards shift instantly, ready to move, but I raise a hand slightly.
I don’t even wipe it away.
Sergei laughs hoarsely.
“You think you’re strong,” he sneers. “But you’re not the same man anymore.”
I tilt my head slightly. “No?”
“No,” he says, eyes burning. “You were ruthless once. Untouchable. But then you got obsessed with that woman.” He nods toward the ceiling, toward the floors above where Ellie is somewhere in the house. “She made you weak.”
My expression doesn’t change.
“You built an empire,” Sergei continues bitterly. “And now you’re risking it all for one woman.” He leans back in the chair, breathing hard. “Kill me if you want,” he says. “It won’t change anything.”
His smile becomes vicious.
“Even if you kill me…more people will come for her.”
The words hang in the air.
“They already know she’s your weakness,” he says. “Your enemies are watching. And now they know exactly where to strike.” He chuckles darkly. “You can’t protect her forever, Mike.”
I don’t flinch. “Who are you working for?”
He shrugs, a lazy, careless motion. “All I know…is it’s a woman. A powerful woman. She only contacts me…anonymously, through encrypted means. She wants Ellie, Mike. She’s someone stronger than you…someone cleverer. And she’s…persistent.”
My hands tighten into fists at my sides. My voice drops, controlled, steady. “No one will ever have Ellie.”
Sergei laughs, bitter, venomous. “Oh, Mike…I already sold her out. She’ll die, and it will be…gruesome. Painful and—”
I raise my hand.
The shot is precise. Clean. Between the eyes. His body crumples instantly, disbelief frozen on his features. Silence follows, heavy, suffocating.
I turn to the guards, voice calm. “Clean this up.”
They move immediately, practiced and efficient. Nothing is left behind except the truth—Sergei’s betrayal is now undeniable and final.
Without hesitation, I leave the basement and jog upstairs. My heart thunders, not with rage, but with certainty. I need to see Ellie, to hold her and ground myself in her presence.
I reach the suite and pause just outside the door, taking a moment to feel the weight of the world outside fall away. Then I step in.
The room is quiet. Ellie isn’t here.
My eyes sweep the suite instinctively—bed perfectly made, personal items untouched—but then I notice a folded letter on the table. My pulse spikes. I grab it, my fingers trembling slightly.
I unfold the paper. The words hit me like ice water:
“Someone reached out to me. Turns out they’re the mastermind of this case. They just want to talk. I’m tired of seeing you risk yourself. I’ll talk to her and put an end to this. Ellie.”
My heart explodes in my chest.