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“Yes, Pakhan!” a chorus of voices respond, enthusiasm oozing from them. The men gathered around Aleks murmur in agreement.
A tall, brutish thug with a scar tracing down his cheek speaks up, “Everything’s in place, Pakhan. The Ivankovs won’t know what hit them.”
Aleks sneers, looking around his assembled group. “You know the best time to strike, don’t you?”
One of the men chuckles, rubbing his hands together. “During their precious party, Pakhan?”
Aleks’s lips stretch into a malicious grin. “Precisely. We’ll shower them with bullets instead of confetti. Killing the Ivankovs is going to be my play time.”
Fucking idiots.
Erik snorts softly beside me, a look of derision clear on his face.
“Big talk,” he murmurs, so only I can hear.
Another stooge, with a nervous twitch in his eye, steps forward. “Pakhan, the other warehouse…it’s been torched. They got the girl and that punk out, too.”
Aleks laughs, the sound echoing in the chilly warehouse. “Let ‘em think they’re winning. Makes it all the sweeter when we come out on top.”
The scarred muscle adds, “For our guys they took out, we’ll make the Ivankovs pay.”
Aleks leans in, cold fury in his eyes. “I’ll personally put a round in each of their heads, just like I did with their last pathetic pakhan.”
My blood boils. This piece of shit is talking about my father.
A deeper, gravelly voice cuts in, probably the big thug I’ve had the displeasure of meeting before. “Once everything’s in place, Katerina will signal. Then we hit them hard and fast.”
Dimitri’s grip on the table tightens, his face an unreadable mask, but I can sense the storm brewing inside him.
Aleks’s laugh grates on my nerves. “Strike at the heart, and the rest will crumble.”
Fucking traitors, the lot of them.
That disgusting piece of shit, Aleks, scheming to butcher everyone at Yulia’s birthday celebration. His own niece, damn him. His unquenchable thirst for control, his perverted craving for domination, his utter void of morals – he’s no better than a rabid animal, and even that’s giving him too much credit.
My gaze locks on Ollie. “Keep monitoring that feed. If anything significant comes up, get Erik on it. Don’t miss a beat, alright?”
Ollie adjusts his glasses nervously, eyes darting between the screen and me. “Y-yes, sir. I got it. I’ll, um, keep tabs on every pixel.”
Erik gives Ollie an encouraging pat on the shoulder, clearly understanding the weight the tech whiz is shouldering.
I stare down at the piece of paper in my hand.
A birthday schedule, Yulia’s name written in elegant script, the details of the celebration planned meticulously. I take a deep breath, trying to control the anger that’s boiling inside me, a rage so fierce it threatens to consume everything.
My jaw clenches, the fury within me churning like a storm. How the hell does a man fall so far? He’s a parasite, feeding off others’ pain, selling out his own flesh and blood for what? Another taste of power? Another sliver of territory?
That bastard’s greed has turned him into a monster, and I’m going to relish tearing him apart, piece by piece. He thinks he can play with lives, toy with family? He’s going to learn just how wrong he is, and I’ll enjoy every second of his suffering.
Breathing deep into my core, I feel the burning rage anchor me. “We need more firepower. More men,” I hiss through gritted teeth. I lock eyes with Dimitri, unyielding.
“Dimitri, reach out to the DeMarcos. We might butt heads over territory, but one thing’s for sure – Aleks is a thorn in their side, too. It’s time to call in some favors.”
“I’ll get on it.” Dimitri nods. “We’ve got to make everything look like business as usual, no hints of what’s coming. That Katerina bitch better stay in the dark, or she’ll find herself in a grave.”
“Who’s watching that bitch right now?” I snap, my voice ice-cold.
“No need to worry, Svetlana’s got eyes on the rat,” Dimitri sneers, his face twisted in contempt. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “He won’t back down. We burned his building, killed his men, but that bastard will keep coming.”
