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“Got it. Roman? You hear that?”
“Loud and clear,” he says near Andrei.
I hear Roman jump into action in the background. I can almost visualize him, fingers flying across a keyboard, eyes scanning multiple screens. Roman’s sleuthing has saved us more than once, and I silently pray this will be another one of those times.
It takes mere moments before I receive a message. The swift ping pulls my attention to the screen. It's from Roman. I click on it, and the information unfolds before me.
Scanning through the details, a singular location stands out. A central distribution point in the heart of Queens, where a truck carrying unique flowers delivers. It’s a lead, and right now, it's all I've got.
I breathe out a sigh of gratitude. "Roman's got it," I inform Andrei.
"Good. Keep me posted. We’ll be there as soon as we touch down."
I quickly tap out the address to Carlos. Even in the vast city of New York, with its millions of secrets, technology ties it all together. The immediate 'ding' of a message received from Carlos gives me a burst of newfound hope.
Men will be there in an hour.
Succinct, just the way I like it.
My mind shifts gears, transitioning from the cerebral to the visceral. I head toward a concealed closet in the apartment. Behind a layer of suits and jackets, a panel slides away to reveal my personal armory. My fingers move over the cold steel of a compact MP5 submachine gun, checking it for readiness. Next, a Glock 19, my reliable sidearm, loaded and holstered. A K-Bar knife is strapped to my ankle, its sharp blade glinting menacingly under the soft LED lights.
I take a deep breath, grounding myself. Each weapon is an extension of my will, my determination. I check the magazines, load the rounds, and feel the familiar weight settling comfortably on my body. It's a feeling that, over the years, I've come to both dread and find solace in.
Dressed in a black tactical outfit, I blend seamlessly with the incoming nightfall. My leather gloves grip the balcony rail as I step outside for a moment. The view from my penthouseapartment is breathtaking, and I appreciate it, even in my current state of mind. New York City sprawls beneath me, a network of lights, sounds, and life.
Above, the night sky is painted with stars, sparkling high above the hard concrete jungle below. But the city doesn’t inspire its usual awe. Instead, it feels like a massive, intricate maze, one I'm about to dive into headfirst.
I think of Ana, bruised but unbroken, her cryptic message, and the promise of our future together. The stakes have never been higher.
As the wind rustles my hair and the distant sounds of sirens pierce the air, my resolve hardens. The city is filled with both danger and opportunity. And tonight, it will witness the downfall of Radu.
No more games. No more waiting.
Tonight, there will be no mercy.
Chapter 36
Anastasia
Every beat of my heart sounds like a clock ticking down, counting the minutes and seconds of my captivity. The walls of this grim room have become all too familiar, but I've never been one to get comfortable in a cage.
Listening closely, I've learned the patterns of my captors. The heavy, overconfident tread of one guard who stops outside my door longer than the others. The softer, hesitant steps of another. Their chuckles, conversations, coughs—all telltale signs of their locations and intentions. I’ve mapped out their routines in my mind, predicting their every move.
"You hear me in there, little one?" I murmur, hand splayed protectively over my stomach. The child growing inside of me is both my vulnerability and my strength. I don’t know the guarantee of how I’m going to protect us both, but I'm damn well going to try. "We're getting out of this. You and me, together. Just hang on a little longer."
After hours of working the lock on the door with a metal filing I found, I was able to unlock it. After listening for the guards, I push the door open cautiously, peeking into the dimly lit corridor. Just a few steps down the hall, the overconfident guard stands, back turned, lazily checking his phone. Perfect.
Moving with the silent grace and precision of a panther stalking its prey, I approach him. My steps are muted, but my heart pounding is almost deafening in my ears. He doesn't hear me coming—and that’s his last mistake.
I remember the combat training sessions I endured, the moves and holds that were ingrained in me. In one fluid motion, I slip my arm around his neck, pulling him into a chokehold. His eyes widen in shock and his fingers claw at my arm, but I'm relentless, using his surprise against him.
Within moments, his struggles weaken, and he crumples unconscious to the ground.
Every second counts. Swiftly, I strip him of his weapon, a knife, and anything else that might be of use. It's a start, but I need more if I'm going to face off against Radu and his thugs.
Grabbing the guard’s radio, I tune in just in time to hear chatter. They're getting restless, discussing a potential move.
I quickly retreat to a corner, blending into the shadows. This game of cat and mouse has only just begun, and I'm ready. Whatever it takes, I'm getting out of here, and Radu's reign of terror ends tonight.
