No point in conserving energy if I’m going to die from smoke inhalation anyway.
Every technique, every dirty trick, every ounce of violence I’ve cultivated over years of serving Roman…I unleash them all.
Grabbing the table, I fling it at him. He flinches and ducks, but the empty chair in my other hand smashes into the side of his face. Pressing my advantage, I lunge at him and pummel his jaw with my fist.
Blood covers his eyelids, pouring from a cut on his forehead and obscuring his vision, just like I hoped.
My knee cracks his ribs. Once. Twice.
Gio stumbles backward, arms raised to protect himself from blows he can no longer see coming. Struggling to breathe.
One more good hit, and he’s finished.
One more, and he’ll pay for everything.
For taking Chloe. Threatening her. Cutting her face.
A support beam crashes down behind me. Sparks shower us all. The flames reach the doorway, cutting off our primary escape route. The heat is unbearable, the smoke thick enough to choke on.
“Kolya!” Chloe shouts over the roaring fire. She’s freed one hand and works frantically on the other. “We need to go!”
In response to my divided attention, Gio lunges for a shape on the floor that’s half hidden by debris.
I could stop him. Should stop him.
End this here and now.
Above Chloe, the ceiling groans, concrete dust sifting down onto her hair. I abandon the fight, vault over a fallen beam, and sprint to her side.
My knife makes speedy work of the remaining rope. I haul her to her feet, supporting her weight as her legs find their strength.
She glances back. “But Gio?—”
“Doesn’t matter.” I’m already pushing us toward the emergency exit on the far wall. “You do.”
Behind us, Gio’s triumphant laugh echoes, followed by the distinctive click of a cocked gun. I force Chloe ahead of me, shielding her with my body as we stumble through the smoke toward the exit.
A shot rings out. The bullet embeds itself in the wall beside my head.
We don’t stop. I swing an arm around Chloe’s waist and half carry her through the inferno the warehouse has become.
Eventually, we reach the emergency exit. The metal door is too hot to touch, so I kick it open. Fresh air rushes in, sweet and cool compared to the hellscape we escaped.
We tumble out onto a metal fire escape, flames licking at our calves. Behind us, a deafening crack rends the night.
I peer over Chloe’s head as the entire roof caves in. Concrete and steel rain down onto the spot we just vacated.
Gio’s yells are cut short, buried beneath tons of debris and ravenous flames.
I don’t waste any time pulling Chloe down the fire escape. She moves as fast as her unsteady legs will allow. We reach the bottom as the upper floors of the warehouse begin to collapse in a chain reaction of structural failure. The ground trembles beneath our feet.
“Run.”
And we do, until we’re staggering across the empty lot toward the perimeter fence where Kirill waits with our extraction vehicle.
I don’t glance back at the blazing warehouse. Gio’s tomb. He doesn’t matter anymore.
Only the woman beside me matters, her hand clutched in mine, her breathing ragged but strong.
