Not ever.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nikolai
The clouds hung low over the street, like they'd crash down any second.
I stood in the middle of that blood-soaked street, shell casings and shattered glass crunching under my boots—remnants of Sasha's desperate fight to get Vivienne out. Bullet holes riddled the walls. Gunpowder and blood still hung in the air.
"Pakhan." Mark crouched on the ground, evidence bag in hand. "We found this behind the dumpster."
Sterling silver. An eagle carved into the surface, talons gripping a dagger—the Marchetti family crest.
I stared at that cufflink. My pupils contracted.
Marchetti.
So it really was Carmine who'd taken Vivienne.
But then a darker thought crept in—the Marchetti family alone couldn't have set up such a precise ambush on our convoy. They knew Sasha's tactics too well. Knew our routes too well.
Someone on the inside was feeding them information.
And anyone with access to intel that classified could only come from inside the Volkov family.
My phone vibrated.
I pulled it out. A photo on the screen.
Vivienne.
Tied to a chair. Bruises on her face. Blood at the corner of her mouth. Eyes full of terror and rage.
That face I'd kissed countless times, now covered in wounds.
I stared at that photo. Something in my chest burned, roared, tore at every nerve.
Then a second message came through.
"Want her alive? Come to the abandoned steel mill in the south district. Alone. Otherwise, the next photo will be her corpse."
I stared at those words, violence burning in my chest hot enough to turn me to ash.
No signature, but I already knew who sent it.
"Did you trace the signal?" My voice was ice-cold.
"We did." Mark opened his tablet, a red dot on the screen. "A Marchetti warehouse at an abandoned steel mill in the south district. But Pakhan, the place is heavily defended—at least twenty armed guards, and—"
"And what?"
"Thermal imaging shows significant movement inside. This is likely a trap. They're waiting for you."
I looked up toward that industrial wasteland barely visible in the darkness.
A trap?
Of course it was a trap.
