Page 21 of Marked By the Mob

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” I lie.Yet, I add silently.

“Good.” He stops at the entrance to the wing, his hand on the security panel. “Because if you try, you won’t make it past the first checkpoint. And I’d hate to see what would happen if you did.”

The threat is clear. Whatever just happened between us doesn’t change anything. I’m still a prisoner here. Still at their mercy.

He’s about to say something else when alarms suddenly blare through the estate. Loud, piercing, impossible to ignore.

Artur’s entire demeanor changes in an instant. The cold professionalism vanishes, replaced by something lethal. His hand goes to the gun I didn’t realize he was carrying.

Armed guards rush past us, weapons drawn, heading toward the outer gates. Their boots thunder against the floor, and I can hear shouting in Russian from somewhere deeper in the estate.

“Come,” Artur orders, grabbing my arm.

“What’s happening?”

“Something triggered the perimeter.” He doesn’t look back as he yanks me along. “Don’t move from this spot.”

He deposits me in my room, the alarm shrill in our ears, then he’s gone, disappearing down the hallway with the other guards, leaving me alone with the wailing alarms and the sudden, terrifying certainty that whatever’s happening it’s not good.

9

EDUARD

The alarm tears through the estate like a physical force, loud enough to make my teeth ache. I’m already moving before my brain fully processes what’s happening, my hand automatically going to the weapon holstered at my side. Years of training and survival instinct kick in, overriding everything else.

Guards flood the corridors from every direction, their boots thundering against marble floors as they rush toward their assigned positions. The sound is organized chaos, the kind that comes from men who’ve drilled for this exact scenario dozens of times. I catch glimpses of weapons drawn, faces set in hard lines, bodies moving with purpose.

Rurik appears at the end of the hallway, his pale blue eyes sharp and assessing as he takes in the situation. He doesn’t run. He never runs. But his stride is long and purposeful as he heads toward the security control room. Artur emerges from the opposite direction, already barking orders in Russian to the guards streaming past him.

I fall into step beside Rurik, my pulse steady despite the adrenaline flooding my system. “Perimeter breach?”

“Unknown.” His voice is clipped, controlled. “We’ll know in thirty seconds.”

The security control room is a hive of activity when we arrive. Three guards are already at their stations, fingers flying over keyboards as they pull up camera feeds and sensor data. The wall of monitors flickers with images from every angle of the estate, exterior and interior, cycling through views so fast it’s almost dizzying.

Artur pushes through the door behind us, his dark eyes scanning the screens immediately. “What triggered it?”

“Motion sensors along the eastern fence line.” One of the guards doesn’t look up from his screen as he speaks, his accent thick. “Section twelve, near the service road.”

I move closer to the monitors, studying the feeds from that area. The cameras show the fence line clearly, illuminated by floodlights that kicked on automatically when the alarm sounded. Trees sway in the wind beyond the property line, their shadows dancing across the ground. But I don’t see any movement that would explain the trigger.

“Show me the replay,” Rurik orders, leaning over the guard’s shoulder.

The footage rewinds, playing back the last five minutes in fast motion. We watch in silence as the timestamp counts backward, the images flickering past. Nothing. Just empty fence line and swaying trees.

“There.” Artur points at the screen. “Go back ten seconds.”

The guard complies, slowing the playback to normal speed. We all lean in, watching carefully. For a moment, there’s nothing. Then a flicker of movement near the base of the fence, low to the ground and fast.

“Freeze it,” I say.

The image pauses, grainy but clear enough. A small dark shape is visible near the fence, partially obscured by shadows.

“Animal,” Rurik says flatly.

“Could be a diversion.” Artur’s hand rests on his weapon. “Send someone to check it physically.”

Rurik nods and gestures to one of the guards. “Take a team. Sweep the entire eastern perimeter. I want eyes on every meter of that fence line.”