Chapter 7 - The Mastermind
I stood in the center of the dark warehouse office, holding the paper in my hand while the reality of the last two years reconstructed itself around me like a nightmare.
Clara hadn't been an innocent victim caught in the crossfire of my war with the Voronov Syndicate.
She had been the syndicate’s highest-level operative—a woman planted into my life ten years ago to gain access to my family’s maritime infrastructure, my bank accounts, and my intelligence network. She had faked her death, staged the fire, sacrificed her own reputation, and left me to burn in an endless hell of grief while she walked away into the shadows with everything I had built.
And Lily...
My daughter.
“Where is my daughter?” I demanded, turning on Nikolai with a lethal, absolute fury that made even Viktor step back in alarm.
Nikolai coughed, rubbing his bruised throat. “I don't know where the kid is. Clara took her after the fire. She said the girl was her ultimate insurance policy against you. If you ever found out she was alive, she’d use the child to keep you from pulling the trigger.”
I took two steps forward, raised my Sig Sauer, and fired three rounds directly into Nikolai’s chest.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
He collapsed against the floor, his eyes rolling back, his breath ceasing instantly.
I didn't watch him die. I turned around, walking past Viktor, heading down the steel stairs toward the breached side door of the warehouse.
“Boss!” Viktor called out, hurrying down the steps behind me. “What do we do now? Where are we going?”
“Back to the estate,” I said, my voice dropping into a register that was no longer human. “I need to talk to Elena.”
We drove back through the pouring rain in total silence. The black Escalades cut through the dark streets like hearses, carrying a man who had died two years ago and had just been dragged back to life by a nightmare.
When we reached the gates of my estate, the heavy iron bars swung open automatically. We pulled up to the main entrance, and I stepped out onto the wet driveway, walking straight into the foyer.
I didn't stop in the dining room. I walked down the grand staircase into the subterranean level, stepping up to the heavy steel blast door of the safe room.
I punched in the six-digit override code on the digital keypad.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. CLICK.
The heavy steel door hissed open, swinging outward.
Inside the safe room, sitting on a leather sofa beneath the bright LED ceiling lights, was Elena. Beside her, fast asleep with her head resting on her mother’s lap, was Amara, still holding her plush yellow rabbit.
Elena looked up, her face filled with terrified anticipation as she saw me standing in the doorway.
“Is... is Nikolai...?” she whispered.
“Nikolai is dead,” I said flatly.
Elena let out a ragged breath, closing her eyes as a wave of relief washed over her face. She bowed her head, kissing the top of her sleeping daughter’s dark curls.
I walked into the room, stopping three feet from the couch.
“Elena,” I said quietly. “When Nikolai sent you to my house four months ago... did he give you a phone number to contact him?”
“Yes,” she nodded, opening her eyes. “A burner phone number. I was supposed to text him a code word if I found the ledger.”
“Give me the number,” I said.
Elena reached into her pocket, pulled out a small piece of folded paper, and handed it to me.
I looked at the ten digits written in black ink.
I pulled my own phone from my coat pocket, typed the number into the keypad, and pressed CALL.
I set the phone on the coffee table between us, setting it to speaker.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then, the call connected.
May you like
A woman’s voice filled the quiet, sterile air of the safe room—smooth, elegant, and entirely familiar.
“Hello, Julian,” Clara said through the speaker. “I wondered how long it would take you to clear out Nikolai’s warehouse.”
