They’re getting bolder. I have to stop them.
Pulling the gun from my waist holster with my left hand, I took out my phone with my right.
“Mikhail,” I mentioned. “Another breach.”
“I’ll be expecting you.”
I flipped the safety off as I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
“Sir!” Ray called, his breath heavy as he rushed up the stairs to meet me.
“The attack is over. Boss, Dimitri said to tell you he’s after the attacker,” he announced.
“Ask him to meet me in my office once he gets back.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was anyone hit?”
“No, sir.”
I headed back to the hallway, flicking the safety of my gun back on and putting it back in its place.
It wasn’t exactly good news that the attack had ended or that Dimitri was on the shooter’s trail. I needed the assurance that they wouldn’t think of trying it again- and that would only happen when I eliminated every single person involved. But even more than that, I needed to know where the attack came from.
I was too furious to sit as I got into my home office. Staring out of the window that overlooked the rear garden did nothing to calm me. Alcohol crossed my mind, but it was an angry idea that wouldn’t fly; I couldn’t be sure of my ability tostop in such an unprecedented moment. It might take way more than my usual volume to stop the dreadful imagination of what would have happened if the attack had played out differently.
“Viktor!” Mikhail called, entering my office, not bothering to close the door after him.
He raked his hand through his dark blond hair before he rolled his sleeves up, revealing his ink-covered forearms.
“Your men said it’s over,” he uttered, joining me by the window. “Was any harm done?”
The right answer was both a yes and a no. There was no one bleeding in the garden, but harm was done. A type of harm that I was dying to know how to fix. Emilia was terrified; that was enough harm.
But Mikhail wouldn’t understand. Even I wouldn’t have understood just a few weeks ago.
Fuck, I’m still not sure I understand what’s going on inside me.
So, I told my brother, “No.”
“Alright,” he remarked, going to sit in the chair opposite my office desk.
He rolled the chair around to face the window.
“Dimitri is on his way; we’ll get to the root of this,” he assured.
If I weren’t so damn angry, I would have laughed at his assumption that the attack was the only reason for my annoyance.
“I want names,” I demanded. “I fucking want to know who dares attack my estate twice!”
“They are going to beg to be killed, trust me,” he said.
The door opened again, and a sweaty Dimitri stepped in.
“Boss,” he uttered before turning towards my table. “Sir Mikhail.”
“Talk,” I instructed, walking over to my chair behind the desk. Mikhail turned his chair back to its normal position as I took my seat.
