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The prisoner smiled. “You Pakhans are all the same. All think you’re the biggest man in the room.” He snorted, then winced when Lev put pressure on his injured leg. His gaze dropped to the pocket where I’d put my phone. “You’re all so easy to manipulate. Dangle a pretty carrot, and you all take off running.”

Lev shifted beside me, but I held up a hand. The man wanted to talk, not because he’d suddenly become cooperative but because he was arrogant. “There are lots of pretty carrots in the world. Finding the right one is imperative to success.”

“Ah, yes. The right one. How is that working out for you?” He wheezed out a laugh and used his palms to push into a proper sitting position with his head resting against the cold concrete.

My men surrounded me, the rest of the compound fighting its own battles.

He watched me, head tipping to the side and enjoying himself far too much. “He put her on the auction block. Your pretty carrot.”

“Who?” I fisted my hands to keep from throttling the answer from him.

His jaw shifted, a muted crunch sounding.

“Fuck.” I grabbed him by the jaw, but it was too late. His body jerked as I pried his mouth open. A bitter, chemical smell hit. Whatever had been in his tooth was already dissolving as I brought his face close to mine. “Who’s behind this? You’re already dead, you might as well prove your superiority by giving me a name.”

His eyes struggled to focus on mine. A slow smile crawled out even as his legs twitched. “Sokolov.” His body went slack in my hands, and I threw him to the ground.

Lev checked him for a pulse, a useless endeavor but one he’d been trained for.

11

KIRILL

The last shelter door slammed shut and locked as one of my men confirmed everyone was accounted for. They’d practiced for this, which meant there was less panic than there could’ve been, but the sight of a little boy clutching a stuffed dog while his mother dragged him through a reinforced door turned my mood ugly.

I’d been on the brink already, but now, it surged in search of an outlet. “Keep it sealed.” I checked the corridor behind me while Tor nodded. “Nobody talks their way through that door. You open it for me, Maksim, or Roman. That’s it.”

“Yes, Pakhan.” Tor’s chin dipped in a crisp nod.

My radio crackled against my shoulder. “Pakhan Popov, movement in the private sector. West.”

“Fucking asswipe bastards.” I touched my earpiece. “How many?” Every pleasant thought I’d had about this day evaporated. Armed men were in the same part of the house as Anika and Nora.

Maksim had them, but that didn’t stop the absolutely feral rage pulling my lips wide.

“Two confirmed. Possible third. Moving deeper.” The droning voice held no inflection because he knew better than to panic. “Pakhan Morozov has reported they have suicide pills capped in their teeth.”

Interesting. So anyone we attempted to capture might off themselves given the chance. Not every man had the guts to follow through, but most did. “On my way.” Thank fuck. Unleash the beast. The thought rolled through me, heat following as I shed my amiable personality for the darker version I hid from most of the world. Even my breathing changed as I shifted into the persona my men referred to as The Psycho.

Tor started to follow, on the verge of handing off his duty to the next man in line.

“No.” I pointed him toward the shelter. “You stay. Take whoever you need to keep this door secure.” I cracked my neck, a smile tugging at my cheeks. “I have this under control.”

His gaze dropped to the gun in my hand, then to my face. He’d worked for me long enough to know what the smile meant. “Yes, Pakhan.”

I held up four fingers. “With me.” Four men from the back peeled away from the rest. We took off for the west wing at a run. The sirens had finally cut off, leaving the estate strangely quiet except for the thud of boots, clipped radio traffic, and the occasional burst of gunfire carrying through the stone. Without the alarm, every sound carried, which suited me fine. I wanted to know exactly where the bastards were hiding.

The first body I leaped over belonged to us. He was alive, sitting with his legs stretched out and a hand clamped against his shoulder. Blood ran between his fingers. “Three men. Cut across the balcony on the archive side.”

That caught my attention quick enough to change my trajectory. If the intruders wanted Anika or Nora, the private residential hall was the faster route. Maksim’s offices and archive were deeper inside, behind two additional security doors. Men trying to abduct a woman didn’t detour toward locked records rooms.

We rounded a corner, and I raised a fisted hand. In an instant, we shifted from not giving a fuck who heard us coming to dead silence. My men spread out, creating space so one burst of gunfire wouldn’t take us all out. Blood marked the floor near a doorway, too dark and too sparse to belong to anyone badly injured. A few steps later, a heel print marred the blood spatter, the streak telling me he’d slipped before regaining his balance. Moving quick but not at random, the blood created a clear path.

I crouched and motioned toward the side passage instead of straight ahead. One of my men frowned until I pointed at the camera above the main corridor. Dead since the blackout. Whoever had come through here likely knew that, because they’d chosen the shortest route despite being completely exposed to the cameras if they’d been online. I rounded the corner in a crouched position.

A shot cracked over my head, and I let out a maniacal cackle, rushing across the room at the motherfuckers who thought they could invade my home and put my people at risk.

Three men pushed into the intersection almost at once, two firing while the third stayed tight behind them. I slid under a table, firing at their knees.