CHAPTER 42
YURI
“Come to gloat?”
The room smells like bleach and stale coffee, like every inch has been scrubbed then re-scrubbed to wash away the rot that still clings to the walls.
Christian De la Rosa is seated when we walk in, hands cuffed to a steel ring bolted into the center of the table, ankles shackled to the floor.
His posture’s too straight to be natural, like he’s forcing it. His orange jumpsuit is too big, sagging at the shoulders. The hair that used to be styled to perfection now hangs over his forehead, curling slightly at the edges.
He looks like a man learning, slowly and brutally, what it means to lose everything.
Still, he manages a smile. Or the idea of one.
His voice is rougher than I remember. I’m guessing he’s not sleeping much these days.
I sit down across from him, folding my hands on the table. Lev slides into the chair to my right, all fake charm. Luk stays standing, leaning against the wall with his arms folded tight, his eyes locked on Christian like he’s daring him to breathe wrong.
“No,” I say, voice calm. “I here to tell you what comes next.”
Christian tilts his head like he’s amused, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrays him. “You think this is the end of me?” he says. “I’ve still got people, contacts who?—”
“Are either dead, indicted, or halfway to Singapore,” Lev cuts in. “You’re not a chess master anymore, Christian. You’re just the last piece on a board nobody’s playing.”
Luk pushes off the wall and comes a few steps closer. “You know what happens in here, don’t you? When men like you lose power?”
Christian’s jaw tightens. I watch his hands twitch against the cuffs, not from defiance, but from fear.
“You’ve made enemies on every side,” I say, my voice softer now. “Spalding flipped the second they promised him a deal. All of your accounts are frozen. Your guards have turned. Your lawyers have already started offering deals to save themselves.”
His mouth opens but no sound comes out. I continue. “You’re exposed. Naked. No empire, no friends, no way out.”
He scoffs, weakly. “You don’t know everyone I’ve bought.”
Lev leans forward, elbows on the table, his voice cold enough to chill the air. “They’re broke. Arrested. Or too scared to say your name now. You’re a liability.”
Christian’s façade is cracking. His fingers clench. Sweat beads at his temple. His gaze keeps darting around the room, like he’s hoping someone will come save him. No one does.
I let the silence stretch for a moment. Then I speak, soft and final. “You know how many friends we have in here?” I ask. “How many men owe us favors? How many will smile when they find out you tried to sell out half the underworld to the Feds?”
He swallows hard. His tongue wets his lips. His bravado’s leaking out of him with every breath.
“You won’t last,” I say, rising from the chair. “Not long. Not like this.”
“You wanted to be a god,” Luk mutters behind me. “Now you’re just a man waiting to die like the rest.”
I glance down at him one last time. He won’t meet my eyes. We don’t wait for a response. Lev stands and follows me without a word. Luk lingers just a second longer before he turns and follows.
We don’t look back.
I can feel Christian’s eyes on us as the door slams shut. I can hear the metal locking, sharp and final. He’s hearing it too, as a countdown to his fate.
The doors groan open, heavy steel parting to let us out. The air hits me, making me feel alive again—brisk, open, clean in a way the inside could never be.
I take a long breath, slow and deep, letting it fill my lungs. Sunlight pours across the yard in wide, golden bands, and for a second, I just stand there, breathing it in. The sky is pale blue and limitless.
Behind me, Lev steps out, letting the door swing shut with a solid thud. “Smells different out here,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.
