I smirked and latched the final charge to the column.“Like music, brother.All your enemies are going to drop in the same note.”
He didn’t smile.He never smiled at the things I did.Which is why I liked him.
Archie stood near the loading bay, checking his watch, expression cold and eager.“Semyon is on his way.”
“Tell him to hurry,” I muttered.“I’m ready to paint.”
Gianni glided through the shadows, two guns hidden beneath his coat, silent as a ghost.“Perimeter is sealed.No one comes in or out.”
We were ready to welcome our guests.
I flicked open my lighter.Flame blossomed, warm and hungry.
“Hello, chaos,” I whispered, kissing the heat.
I slid it back into my pocket and moved into position as headlights blazed outside.
Engines rumbled.Doors thudded.Heavy boots hit the floor.The scent of cigarette smoke floated through the air, along with laughter that was thick with arrogance.
The Sokolov men entered like they were kings.
Idiots.
They didn’t notice the missing support columns.The unnatural hum of the charges.The fact that Raze Cavalho was already smiling like he was tasting blood in the air.
Marcello lifted his chin.
Gianni locked the main doors behind them.
Archie walked forward to greet the men he was betraying.
I breathed in and whispered: “let’s end an empire.”
49
Marcello
Semyon Sokolov was exactly as I remembered him.Smug.Arrogant.Wearing that thick, unearned confidence only truly stupid men ever managed to pull off.He strutted into the center of the warehouse like he owned the air, the concrete, and probably my last nerve too.
Eight men followed in his wake, all leather jackets, shaved heads, and dead-eyed grins—like a boy band for violent idiots.
For a man who had just lost two brothers, Semyon looked remarkably upbeat.No grief.No solemnity.Just that same lazy swagger, as if he’d merely misplaced a pair of socks instead of buried his bloodline.
Guess that’s what happens when you’re the black sheep of a monster family.You don’t mourn.You just step over the bodies and keep walking.
“You called a meeting?”Semyon asked Archie, his voice dipping in disdain, almost bored.
“Cute.I expected you on your knees.”
Archie didn’t even blink.He just rolled a shoulder and smoothed a palm down his immaculate jacket.
“Please.You know I don’t kneel.And I’m not ruining a perfectly good suit on your account.”
Gianni shifted to my right, shoulders rolling loose, expression carved into cold stone.
Raze prowled to my left, already crackling with the violent anticipation of a man two seconds from doing something spectacularly illegal.
My heart beat slow.Controlled.Like it was syncing itself to violence.