The panic in my eyes had been replaced by ice-cold killing intent. The episode had made me lose control temporarily, but now that fear had transformed into pure rage and determination.
Those people had made the most fatal mistake in the world—they'd touched my family.
I picked up the dropped phone, telling Ivan, "Track this number immediately. Deploy all technical personnel. I want the exact location of that signal source." My voice was terrifyingly calm.
"Yes!" Ivan immediately pulled out his phone to coordinate.
I turned toward the apartment building where Sofia still slept, unaware her mother was in danger.
"Double the security for Sofia," I ordered. "I want eyes on every entrance. Tell Viktor and Nikolai—any suspicious movement, shoot to kill."
"Understood."
Minutes later, the tech team called.
"Pakhan, we've tracked the signal source." The voice was tense. "An abandoned slaughterhouse on the edge of Brooklyn, abouttwo kilometers from that pharmacy. The place has been empty for seven or eight years. Very isolated area."
A slaughterhouse. A place steeped in blood and death. They hadn't chosen it randomly.
"Good. Send me detailed maps and building schematics immediately. Also, pull all surveillance footage around the slaughterhouse. I want to know how many people are there, when they arrived, how many vehicles."
"Understood."
I dialed another number. "Initiate red alert protocol. Assemble all elite squads. I'll send you the target location. Ten minutes to full deployment—bring all heavy weapons."
"Understood, Pakhan."
After hanging up, I told Ivan, "Contact all core family members and allies. After tonight, the East Coast power structure gets reshuffled. Tell them—anyone who stands against me now, I'll erase their family from the map permanently."
"Yes!"
Ten minutes later, all the intel was on my phone screen. An old slaughterhouse built in the fifties, abandoned for over seven years. Typical industrial layout—main hall, cold storage, cutting rooms, and underground drainage systems.
Surveillance showed three black SUVs entering the rear yard about an hour and ten minutes ago. All fake plates. Initial estimate: fifteen to twenty armed personnel.
"Ready?" I asked Ivan.
"Standing by. Three elite squads, eight men each, fully equipped."
"Good." I opened the car door, checking my pistol's magazine—full. "Tonight, I'm teaching the entire East Coast what happens when you touch my family."
I slid into the car, watching the sky darken outside. Two hours—that's what they'd given me.
But I didn't need two hours.
I'd end this in one.
I turned to address the convoy. "Move out."
Engines roared to life, and we headed toward that abandoned slaughterhouse.
Tonight, many people would pay for their mistake.
And I would prove to everyone, in blood and fire, that Volkov women and children were the most forbidden territory in this world.
Chapter Thirty-One
Anna
