I pull my gun and take a breath.
Once the first body drops, the clock starts ticking. I start to move when a flash of movement catches my eye.
A fourth guard I hadn't spotted.
Fuck, that was sloppy.
It’s the kind of mistake that could get me killed. Enzo too.
I press myself against a shipping container, breathing controlled, as boots crunch past me.
The guard pauses, lighting a cigarette, his back to me. The flame illuminates his face for a brief second.
Not just any guard. Dimitri Volkov. The Pakhan’s nephew. I recognize him from years ago when I was allowed at briefings with my father, pre-exile.
His presence confirms this isn't just Pyotr going rogue.
This is sanctioned Bratva business.
Volkov moves on. I slip from shadow to shadow, making my way toward the side entrance where the security is lighter.
Just as I reach for the door, lights flood the compound.
Sirens wail. I've tripped something. A sensor, a tripwire, something I missed.
"Stop!" A voice shouts in heavily accented English. "We see you!"
So much for stealth.
I draw both weapons and kick through the door, rolling into cover as bullets tear through the air where I stood moments before.
Muscle memory takes over as I return fire, dropping two men before they can adjust their aim.
More shouts. Heavy footfalls.
I'm outnumbered, but my advantage is that they don’t know it’s just me.
For all they know, they’ve got the full force of the Dante Mafia descending on them.
I advance through the warehouse, taking down anyone in my path. These aren't clean kills, but they’re still effective.
"Luca Dante." The voice echoes through the space, and my blood turns to ice. Pyotr Petrov stands with Enzo in his grip.
"Let him go, Pyotr. This is between us."
He laughs. "There is no 'between us'. There is only what the Bratva demands. And the Bratva demands the Dante family on their knees."
“Daddy?”
God, the sound of his little voice, so scared, cracks me open. “It’s okay, Enzo.”
“Daddy?” Pyotr looks down at Enzo and then laughs. “I should have fucking known. This just keeps getting better.”
Fuck. Just what I need. Enzo has become a prize simply for being the son of a Dante.
“Only a weak fucking pussy would use a child,” I growl out.
“Big words toward the person who could kill this child right here and now.”
