I twist free and dive forward, rolling across the steel as a burning beam crashes down where I stood seconds ago.
Mikhail is there instantly, pulling me to my feet. His hands run over me frantically, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” I grab his face, forcing him to look at me. “We need to get out. Now.”
Lorenzo staggers toward us through the smoke, follows us down the swaying stairs, his face twisted with rage.
Blood streams from his nose, and his expensive suit is torn and singed. “You think you can escape? I’ll hunt you both to the ends of the earth!”
“No.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the small remote device, holding it up so Lorenzo can see. “You won’t.”
His eyes widen with understanding. “What did you do?”
“I planned for this.” My finger hovers over the red button. “I knew you’d bring me here. Knew you’d try to use me as bait. So I came early and set charges around the exits. Not to bring the building down, but to seal you inside.”
Mikhail’s arm tightens around my waist. “Sophia…”
“The only way out is through the north loading dock.” I meet Lorenzo’s gaze steadily. “And we’re standing between you and it.”
As Mikhail finishes giving his men the orders to retreat, Lorenzo lunges forward, but Mikhail is faster.
His fist connects with Lorenzo’s jaw, sending the older man sprawling.
They grapple on the ground, trading brutal blows while I watch the flames creep closer.
“Mikhail, we have to go!” I shout over the roar of the fire.
He lands one final punch that leaves Lorenzo dazed and bleeding then scrambles to his feet. We run for the loading dock, our hands clasped tight. Behind us, I hear Lorenzo’s enraged screams.
We burst through the loading dock door into the cool night air. Mikhail’s and Ricardo Castellano’s men are there, covered in ash and weapons drawn.
Marco stands behind them, bandaging Ricardo’s shoulder. Tony limps forward, his face pale but determined.
“Sophia!” My brother pulls me into a fierce hug. “Thank god.”
“Get everyone back,” I tell him, my voice urgent. “At least a hundred yards.”
I turn to face the warehouse, Mikhail solid and warm beside me. Through the open loading dock, I can see Lorenzo staggering toward us, his face a mask of blood and fury.
“This is for Nicole,” I whisper. “And for my father. And for everyone else you destroyed.”
I press the button.
The explosion is massive, a wall of fire and force that slams the loading dock door shut and sends debris flying into the night sky.
The shockwave knocks us backward, and Mikhail catches me, his body shielding mine as chunks of concrete rain down around us.
When the dust settles, the warehouse is an inferno. There’s no way anyone inside could have survived.
Lorenzo is gone.
I stare at the flames, waiting to feel something.
Satisfaction.
Relief.
Victory.
