The bodyguards shift, hands going to weapons.
The room is a powder keg. One spark away from exploding into chaos.
"Stand behind me, my love," Nikolai says quietly, his eyes never leaving Yuri.
I move, positioning myself at Nikolai's back, my heart hammering in my chest.
Dimitri raises his hands, his voice calm but commanding. "Everyone. Lower your weapons. No one wants to die here today."
Slowly, hesitantly, the guns lower.
Nikolai steps back, pulling me with him.
"So we're very clear," Nikolai growls, his voice filled with lethal intent. "If you send any more hitmen, like the three you sent last night, I'm going to hunt you down and paint the room with your brains."
Yuri's face twists with confusion. "What are you talking about? I didn't send any men last night."
"Don’t fucking like to me. You sent three professionals to kill my wife. Their bodies are rotting slowly in a frozen mountain crevice as we speak."
Yuri's eyes narrow. “The last man I sent to take care of this situation disappeared five nights ago in Seattle.”
Nikolai's grip on his gun tightens. "Then who sent them?"
The silence is suffocating.
And then a voice cuts through it.
"I did."
Everyone turns.
Ivan stands there, his gun still in his hand, his face calm.
Yuri turns his head slowly. "I never instructed you to do that."
Ivan smiles. And it's a cold, terrible thing. "No. You didn’t. But it’s time.”
“For what?”
“For me to be king."
He raises his gun and the gunshot is deafening.
The bullet catches Yuri in his forehead, killing him instantly, and he hits the floor like a felled tree.
Mila screams.
Ivan turns the gun on her and fires, and she crumples to the floor dead, her phone clattering to the floor beside her.
"No.” Nikolai roars.
But Ivan’s gun is already swinging toward us.
Nikolai shoves me behind him just as Ivan fires, and the bullet hits Nikolai in the chest.
He staggers, his gun falling from his hand, blood blooming across his shirt.
"Nikolai," I scream.
