My pulse slows instead of rising.
Calm. Precise. Deadly.
Panic gets people killed. Planning keeps them alive.
I could move now. Put bullets in all three of them before they reach the car.
But I don’t know who else is watching.
Don’t know who ordered this.
And I’m not starting a war blind. Not when Lindsay Beaumont is now at the center of it.
The sedan pulls away, and I wait three seconds before following.
Far enough back to avoid suspicion. Close enough that if they hurt her again, I’ll paint the road with blood before sunrise.
The city begins to thin around us. Streetlights disappear one by one until darkness swallows the road whole. Buildings give way to trees and empty stretches of land.
Good.
No witnesses.
The sedan finally turns onto a narrow gravel road hidden between thick lines of trees. Remote. Private. The kind of place men bring bodies when they don’t plan on anyone finding them.
A slow smile pulls at my mouth.
They think they’re hunters tonight.
They have no idea whose asset they’re fucking with.
I slow, cutting the lights of my car before I reach the turn. From here, I continue on foot.
The trees are dense enough to cover movement, the ground is uneven. I keep my distance, tracking sound and the faint glow of their headlights as they push deeper into the property. The house comes into view gradually.
It’s old, but not abandoned. I’m sure it was a nice place once upon a time. Now it’s sitting quiet and removed from everything around it. They pull up near the side entrance. I stop just beyond the tree line and watch, waiting. They carry her inside.
I count seconds. Minutes. My breathing steady and my pulse controlled. Everything in me is still.
When Lindsay wakes up, I’m already in position. Close enough to hear, far enough to remain unseen. She’s in a chair, hands bound. Her head tilts slightly to the side where they struck her. She takes it in quickly. The room, the exits. The men.
My gaze lingers on her face. I think I’m expecting her to scream, to show fear. But she doesn’t. And I’m impressed.
Instead, defiance crosses her expression. I exhale slowly. If I wasn’t here, that look would have gotten her killed in seconds.
But I’m here, and I would never let them kill her.
There are three of them right now. The third stands apart from the others, with a different posture. Controlled. The others defer to him without realizing it. I recognize him. One of the Pakhan’s lieutenants. But something is off.
They’re shifty. Almost like they’re not supposed to be here. This little hunt probably wasn’t sanctioned, which makes sense. Everything aside, Lindsay’s the mayor’s daughter. And while the old man might be a snake, he has considerable power in this city. That’s how he rose to his position in the first place. And as his daughter, she should have been protected by that influence and wealth.
Fuck, why didn’t I put men on her? We may not be… anything but we are something and I need to make sure that she’s safe. This won’t happen again.
The lieutenant, Morozov, steps closer to her, crouching just enough to meet her eye level.
“Hello, Ms. Beaumont,” he says, his accent thick but his tone measured. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But you’ve been causing us trouble.”
She doesn’t respond. Just watches him like he’s a wild animal that should be caged.
