Niko presses his forehead against mine, his growl low and reluctant. “Always with that fucking timing.”
Despite everything, I laugh softly, and he kisses me one last time before pulling away and striding to the door.
Chapter 18 – Niko
Demyan steps inside, his face carved from stone, eyes flicking once toward Noelle before settling on me. He closes the door softly behind him.
“Boss, I need to speak with you. Alone.”
I shake my head, jaw set. “No. Whatever it is, you can say it here.”
His mouth tightens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a tablet, the screen already glowing. “We pulled footage from last night’s blast. You need to see this.”
He taps, and the video plays.
The clinic fills the frame, quiet, ordinary. A heartbeat later, the world goes white. The explosion tears through concrete and steel, glass spraying like shards of ice. The camera shakes violently, then cuts to black.
Another angle—closer this time. The fireball consumes the hallway in a blink, swallowing everything in its path. Men running. Screams tearing through the air. The sound cuts out, but the images are enough.
My grip on the armrest tightens until my knuckles burn.
Demyan swipes again, showing still shots of the wreckage. Walls gutted. Floors blackened. Bodies—if you could even call them that—charred beyond recognition. Flesh and bone melted into ash.
I feel Noelle’s breath catch beside me, sharp and strangled. I don’t look at her—I can’t. Not when rage is clawing its way up my throat, hot and vicious.
“They wanted to make a point,” Demyan says quietly. “This wasn’t just about killing. This was about sending a message.”
I drag my gaze from the screen, forcing myself to breathe. “And the message is received.”
But inside, I’m already planning. Already calculating. If Anton thinks fire will scare me, he’s forgotten who I am.
Still, a question burns through me, sharp and relentless.
“Where the hell is he getting all this?” I mutter, staring at the still image of the wreckage. “The money, the ammo—this wasn’t some crude homemade device. This was precise, military-grade. And the men who carried it out…they weren’t amateurs.”
Demyan finally drags his eyes from the screen to meet mine. “That’s the problem, Boss. You’ve stacked up a mountain of enemies over the years. Anton doesn’t need to build an empire to do this—he just needs to convince the right people you’re vulnerable. And men like that? They’ll line up to fund him if it means watching you bleed.”
The words sink like ice into my chest. Enemies. Rivals. Betrayers I’ve put down, families I’ve dismantled, alliances I’ve crushed. I’ve always known the list was long, but hearing it out loud is something else.
I press my palms against my thighs, steadying the rage clawing at my gut. “So he’s using my enemies as his investors.”
Demyan nods once. “And your ghosts as his army.”
The room feels colder suddenly. Noelle shifts beside me, her silence heavy, her eyes fixed on me as though searching for the cracks Anton is so desperate to split open.
“I want the families of the doctor and the soldiers compensated. Immediately,” I say, my voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. “It won’t bring them back, but it’s the least we can do.”
Demyan inclines his head. “Yes, sir.”
My chest feels heavy. My eyes go back to the footage, to the flames licking at the walls, to the shadows of people who never should’ve been part of this war. A young doctor who justwanted to heal, two soldiers who had no choice but to stand guard. Caught in the crossfire of a message meant for me.
I lean back in my chair, dragging a hand over my face. For once, the rage doesn’t burn—it weighs. They didn’t deserve that.
The silence stretches. Noelle’s hand brushes against mine on the bed, grounding me, her touch a reminder that even in this bloody game, there are still pieces of me Anton hasn’t poisoned.
Anton thinks fire will weaken me. What he doesn’t understand is—I’ve lived in fire my whole damn life.
“I want a full lockdown,” I say, looking up at Demyan. “No one moves without clearance. Every soldier, every ally—no distractions, no side jobs. From this point forward, every ounce of our strength is aimed at Anton and whatever pitiful network is backing him.”
