Chapter 24 – Timofey
Two days later, the confirmation arrives.
Anton Petrov has entered the city.
There’s no secrecy to his arrival. He’s not hiding. He’s not lowkey. It’s like he wants us to know he’s here, and he’s not afraid.
Multiple sources confirm it within minutes. Independent channels. Surveillance overlaps. Movement logs. All pointing to the same conclusion.
He’s here.
And now everything we’ve built over the past weeks stops being preparation.
It becomes reality.
I don’t waste time reacting outwardly. There’s no point. Fear, anger, anticipation—none of it helps now.
We need a foolproof plan.
I gather my most trusted men in the main strategy room of the mansion. Dimitri, Konstantin, Sebastian, Mike, and Lukyan are here too. The space has already become something between a war room and a command center—maps layered across tables, monitors running continuous feeds, encrypted communications open on standby.
They all know why we’re here.
I step to the head of the table.
“Anton is in the city,” I say simply.
No reactions. None needed.
I place a hand on the map spread out before us, eyes scanning the marked zones we’ve been tracking for weeks. Safehouses. Transit points. Possible movement corridors.
“This is no longer surveillance,” I continue. “It’s containment. We don’t chase him anymore.” My gaze lifts slightly. “We control where he can move.”
Lukyan raises his hand. It’s subtle. Controlled. But it cuts through the silence immediately.
“I’ve been monitoring Matteo’s laptop connection,” he says. “It’s still linked to fragments of Anton’s network.”
My attention sharpens instantly. “Go on.”
Lukyan exhales once, slow.
“It’s been inconsistent, but there’s a pattern forming,” he continues. “And it’s not defensive.”
That alone tightens something in my chest.
“What is it?” I ask.
He hesitates—just long enough to make the room feel heavier. Then he shakes his head slightly, like he still doesn’t fully like the conclusion.
“The information suggests Anton is planning something bold,” Lukyan says. “Rather than hiding or operating indirectly…he’s preparing a direct strike on your estate.”
The room shifts. Barely noticeable, but there. The air gets thinner. Sharper. Mike straightens slightly in his chair.
I don’t move.
Because there’s only one reason Anton would abandon subtlety at this stage. As if he can tell my thoughts, Lukyan meets my eyes.
“It’s not just an attack,” he says. “It’s extraction. The pattern suggests he intends to breach the estate, isolate her, and remove Valeria from your protection entirely.”
