“Get the gas and weapons ready,” I growl. “Vasili is pushing the southern line. Call the reserve units at the warehouse. We’re bypassing the original raid. I want a full, merciless counterstrike the second they cross the boundary. Do not take prisoners.”
“Understood.”
I slam my hand on the steering wheel, terminating the call. There’s no time to waste, no time to analyze anything.
With a brutal jerk of my arms, I yank the wheel violently to the left.
I stomp on the brakes and the accelerator simultaneously, swerving the car around in a violent U-turn. The tires shriek in an agonizing protest against the asphalt, leaving a cloud of dark smoke in the rearview.
The sun begins to set, but instead of orange streaks ripping through purple skies, the clouds turn shades of gray—the type of clouds that promise violent rain and a turbulent storm.
I lead the attack personally.
Mikhail stands guard by my side and, together, we watch the night erupt into flames.
Automatic gunfire rips through the silence of the harbor, and within minutes, a blinding pillar of fire lights up the dark water as Vasili’s cargo ships begin to burn.
Heat washes over my face as roaring flames reflect in the ripples of the black sea.
We sweep through the docks with speed and efficiency. Shipping containers explode into towering infernos of twisted metal and ash.
Decades of his smuggling infrastructure, millions of dollars in premium cocaine routes—most of what Vasili built to challenge my position—is turned to smoke in a single night.
Standing on the edge of the concrete pier and watching years of his work burn, a grim, icy satisfaction settles deep in my chest.
But it lasts for only a few seconds.
My phone rings, the jarring sound piercing through the thundering rumble of the explosions. I bring it to my ear, keeping my gaze fixed on the burning harbor. “Speak.”
“It was a distraction, boss.” Ace’s voice comes over the line. “The ambush was a distraction. He didn’t send his main forces to the docks. He sent them after another target. Volkov is dead.”
My blood runs cold at the name of Tatiana’s bodyguard. I’ve been in this business long enough to understand what’s happening. His death means only one thing, and I dread the reality of hearing Ace say it.
“Vasili took her. He has Tatiana.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
My chest tightens, and for a few seconds, I can’t breathe. My vision blurs and the world tilts violently.
The roaring fire before me loses its heat, and white noise starts in my ears.
He dared to touch her.The only blood family I have left, the only innocent piece of my soul, the person I swore to protect before she was even born…and she’s in the hands of a desperate animal.
Vasili’s wanted to hit me where it hurts for a very long time, and tonight he’s done it. He’s dealt a fucking punch below the belt, but I’ll make sure he feels the full force of the consequences.
I make a sharp turn, heading back to the car. My entire body vibrates with rage, all logical reasoning fizzles out, and my mind is clouded with bloodlust.
In this moment, there’s only one thing I can think of. Only one place I want to go.
Mikhail follows me with a frown. “Leonid? What’s going on? What’s wrong? I thought we—”
“He fucking has Tatiana,” I grit out. “The bastard! I swear on my life, I’m going to kill him with my own hands.”
Mikhail freezes. “Shit.”
“Call the men back. We need to figure out where the hell he’s taken her. We have less than forty-eight hours to fucking plan and execute.”
“Understood. I’ll meet you back at the estate.”
