Page 85 of Prey of the Bratva

“We are inside,” Katya chimed in.

What followed was chaos. Controlled, intentional, and violent.

Inside the grand hall, the illusion shattered instantly. Masked buyers scattered, their cultivated composure dissolving into panic as gunfire erupted through the chandeliers and polished floors. Security contractors engaged, disciplined, but unprepared for the scale of what hit them. Smoke filled the air, thick and suffocating, turning gold-lit opulence into something jagged and indistinct. I stepped through it like it belonged to me.

Because it did.

Every movement was calculated and every shot deliberate. I did not waste time on noise or distraction. I moved through bodies, through resistance, through the collapsing structure of a system that had believed itself untouchable. It no longer was.

“North corridor had been secured,” Viktor’s voice came through the comms.

“Main hall breach complete,” Avgust followed.

“Lower level clear,” Nico added.

Everyone around us was either beginning to run away and escape or was being killed left and right. No one cared if the men in the room were some of the most powerful men in the room. None of it mattered. What mattered was that these men were there to buy women for their own pleasure, and all of them deserved to die.

I ignored it all. There was only one thing that mattered.

I needed to find her. A man stepped into my path. He was armed, trained, and fast, but certainly not fast enough. No one could be fast enough right now. I was a man on the rampage and no one could stop me. Not until I found her. Misha. I disarmed him before he could fire, twisted the weapon from his grip, and drove a shot clean through his chest without breaking stride.

Another came from the side. I pivoted and fired back twice, the man going down at once.

I kept moving.

“Any eyes on her yet, Alina?” I asked through the comms.

“None. There are no cameras inside. I can’t find any footage or any signals,” she replied.

Fuck.

The air smelled like smoke and blood and expensive lies burning into nothing. And then I saw him. Anton Sidorov. He stood near the far end of the hall, barking orders into a comm, his expression sharp with frustration rather than fear. This time, he had not expected us. The shock and horror on his face was exactly what I had been waiting to see. He turned just as I stepped fully into his line of sight, and recognition hit instantly.

His lips curved.

“Romanov,” he said, almost amused. “So you came, but it's too bad that you’re late.”

I didn’t answer. I knew he was bluffing to throw me into a panic. We had entered before the auction had even begun, and that was all that mattered. I knew Misha was here somewhere; I just needed to find her. I didn’t slow down as he drew his weapon.

I was already moving.

The first shot grazed past my shoulder as I closed the distance. I deflected his arm before the second could land, forcing the barrel upward as it fired into the ceiling.

“Not so easy, Sidorov.”

We collided hard, eliminating the distance and space between us. There was no space for anything except violence. He was neither fast nor trained, but he still had strength in him. Despite that, I didn’t care. None of it mattered. I was going to take him down no matter what. I drove my fist into his ribs and felt something crack under the force of my impact. He retaliated immediately, elbow slamming into my side and aiming for the same weakness.

Pain flared, but I ignored it.

“I am going to kill you, Romanov,” he grunted, barely able to breathe.

“You can wish,” I replied, slamming him into the wall like a piece of meat. We moved like predators locked into the same kill, neither willing to yield. He tried to create space, but I didn’t let him. My hand caught his wrist and twisted sharply until the weapon fell from his grip. I kicked it away without looking, forcing him further off balance.

“You don’t understand what you’ve—” he started. I drove my fist into his jaw hard before I could continue and his head snapped back. Blood trickled out of where I had hit him, and he staggered but didn’t fall.

“Volkov planned this,” he said quickly, breath uneven now. “And if you think this ends here, you are wrong.”

“Oh, am I?” I asked, grabbing him by the collar as I slammed him into the nearest pillar. Stone cracked behind him and he choked on the impact.