His hand moved across my back in slow, continuous strokes.
“I’ve handled everything.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Harris and Vasquez are chained in the basement — waiting for your command.”
My breath caught.
“Waiting for my command?”
Ruslan’s gaze darkened — not with cruelty, but with authority.
“Yes.”
“You’ll be the one to decide how both men die,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry — I know over nine hundred ways to make a man beg for death.”
His voice dropped.
“Every family in California that ever backed them — funded them — protected them — is gone. Financial accounts frozen. Properties seized. Influence dismantled.”
A pause.
“They’re worthless now.”
His gaze hardened.
“Their families? Their power? It’s all been erased.”
My stomach twisted.
“Ruslan...”
“No one will threaten us again,” he continued firmly.
“Not here. Not in Greece.”
He tilted his head slightly, his eye locking onto mine.
“You choose where we go next. I’ll follow.”
The weight of his power and loyalty pressed heavily against my chest.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat sink into me.
It was strong.
It made the chaos in my mind feel slightly quieter.
“I just want to sleep,” I whispered.
My body felt like it had run a marathon through hell.
My bones ached.
My muscles trembled with exhaustion.
