Page 67 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan

She doesn’t waste time with questions, just scrambles out of bed and starts pulling on clothes. Through the window, I can see fires blooming across the city skyline—simultaneous attacks on Bratva holdings, exactly the kind of coordinated assault that requires weeks of planning.

Anton Kravin has been busy while recovering from his gunshot wounds.

My phone is already buzzing with incoming reports.

Viktor:Three warehouses hit, two transportation hubs, one suspected car bomb near the financial district offices. Casualties unknown.

Mikhail:This is full-scale war. They’re hitting everything simultaneously.

I dial Mikhail while checking my weapon. “Status?”

“Chaos. They’re targeting every major holding across the city. This isn’t harassment—this is a coordinated elimination effort.” His voice is tense. “We need you at command center immediately.”

“Negative. I’m securing primary asset first.” I glance at Serena, now dressed in dark jeans and a fitted sweater, her face pale but controlled. “Have you activated the safe house protocols?”

“Already done. Route is clear, security team standing by. Pavel, we need your oversight on the counterattack.”

“You have it. Coordinate defensive positions, activate all allied contacts, and prepare for sustained engagement. I’ll be operational remotely within the hour.” I disconnect before he can argue further.

Serena is watching me with that sharp intelligence that misses nothing. “You’re taking me somewhere.”

“A safe house twenty minutes outside the city. It’s heavily fortified, off any grid the Kravin Syndicate has access to.” I hand her a bulletproof vest from the closet’s hidden compartment. “Put this on.”

“Pavel, you should be coordinating the response.”

“My first priority is keeping you alive.” The words come out harsher than intended. “Everything else is secondary. Now put on the vest and don’t argue.”

She complies silently, her fingers working the straps with surprising competence. I’ve taught her basic security protocols over the past weeks without fully explaining why—now that training might save her life.

Viktor appears in the doorway, tactical gear on, rifle in hand. “Vehicle’s ready. Sergei and Alexei are providing escort. Route has been cleared and secured.”

“Good. Let’s move.”

The trip downstairs is fast and controlled, three guards forming a protective diamond around us while two more securethe exit points. Outside, an armored SUV idles with engine running, windows tinted to opacity.

I guide Serena into the back seat, my body between her and any potential threat. Viktor takes the driver’s seat while Sergei rides shotgun, both armed and alert.

“Keep low,” I order Serena as the vehicle pulls away from the mansion. “Don’t sit up until I tell you it’s safe.”

She slides down without protest, her body pressed against the seat while I maintain position above her, weapon ready, scanning through the windows for threats.

The city is chaos. Emergency vehicles scream past heading toward the fires. Police cordons are forming around blast sites. Citizens flee from areas where gunfire echoes between buildings.

And somewhere in this chaos, Anton Kravin is orchestrating attacks designed to destroy everything I’ve built.

“Status report,” I demand into my comm.

“Four confirmed fatalities, twelve wounded,” Viktor responds. “Warehouses are total losses. Transportation hubs sustained heavy damage but structures are intact. No confirmed enemy casualties yet.”

“Change that.” I shift my grip on the weapon. “Authorization code Rudenko-Seven. Execute Protocol Crimson on all known Kravin holdings. Simultaneous strike, maximum force, no survivors except leadership for interrogation.”

“Confirmed. Coordinating now.”

Serena’s hand finds my leg, squeezing once. I glance down to find her watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.

“What?” I keep my voice low.

“You just ordered people killed.” Not accusatory, just stating fact. “Authorized maximum force with no survivors.”