"What did you say?" She searched my face.
I set her phone and bag on the table by the window.
"You can leave," I said again. "Once I deal with Tomaso and the other threats, I'll give you custody of Olei. Until then, you can see him anytime. Or take him out."
She stared at me. Then she asked, "You're serious? You'll give me custody? You won't spy on me anymore?"
"I won't. I swear. I won't force you to do anything you don't want." The words left me, and I felt something like relief wash through.
Only now did I understand what love actually was. Loving someone meant you didn't hurt them. Didn't make them suffer.
She nodded. Then something seemed to occur to her. "Call off whoever's following Julian. Tell them to stop scaring him."
My gut twisted. She was leaving, and the first thing she asked about was another man.
"Fine." I forced the word out.
Anthea grabbed her phone and bag and headed for the door without looking back. I stood there, watching her go. Her blonde hair caught the morning light, soft and glowing. Her thin shoulders trembled slightly. Soon her footsteps faded down the hall. Any moment now, she'd walk out the front door, get in a car, and drive away.
My chest felt hollow. Like my heart had been carved out.
That day, I led my crew to Tomaso's headquarters and painted it red. Gunfire. Screaming. Blood. All familiar.
The flashbang shattered the window. I kicked the door open and charged in first.
Gunfire erupted. Tomaso's men scrambled, but they were fast. Guards dove behind cover and returned fire at the entrance. I pressed against a pillar, leaned out, aimed, fired. Two guards dropped. But bullets kept hammering the pillar beside me, stone chips flying.
"Take out the machine gunner at the right stairwell!" I barked.
A smoke grenade landed by the spiral staircase. White smoke billowed. My men flanked. The gunner never saw it coming—his throat was slit. He tumbled down the stairs, leaving a trail of blood on every step.
Marcus and I split up, pushing deeper from opposite sides. I moved west, gun raised. A guard burst from around a corner, weapon aimed at my chest. I moved faster—dodged, raised my hand, fired. Bullet through the heart.
"Pakhan, a dozen men are holding the basement entrance on the east side!" Marcus's voice crackled through the comms over heavy gunfire. "There's an underground tunnel leading three miles out!"
Damn it. Tomaso was running.
"Blow it!" I shouted, spinning toward the east wing.
I tore through two bullet-riddled hallways. An explosion boomed ahead—Marcus must've used C4 on the basement door. When I reached it, I saw a descending tunnel and several bodies sprawled at the entrance. They'd held the line to the end, buying Tomaso time.
"After him!" I jumped into the passage.
The tunnel was better built than I expected. Emergency lights lined the walls every few meters. Tomaso, that old fox, had planned his escape route long ago.
After nearly ten minutes, the tunnel split into three branches.
"Damn it." I stopped, chest heaving. "Split up!"
But I knew we were too late. Tomaso had a ten-minute head start. He knew these tunnels. We were blind. All three teams came up empty. I stood in the night, covered in blood, rage boiling in my chest with nowhere to go.
"That old bastard's too slippery!" Marcus spat. "He took Vanessa with him."
I clenched my fists. Tomaso got away. But he wouldn't let this go. We'd just destroyed his headquarters. He'd come back for revenge. And Anthea and Olei—they'd both be targets. I had to finish him before he made his move.
"Send the best tracking team after them," I ordered.
"Yes, Pakhan." Marcus left to clean up the scene.
