They won’t be buried properly.
I glance back at the glass, at the woman sleeping inside my walls, under my protection, inside the war I have already decided to finish.
Half an hour later, the office door opens, and my brothers enter. They all look at the glass wall first. Lev’s mouth tightens. Roman exhales through his teeth. Dimitri’s eyes linger a second longer than the others’. Then they turn to me.
Lev doesn’t bother sitting. “How,” he asks coldly, “did someone breach your perimeter?”
I shrug. “They’re skilled. Markov’s best men.”
Dimitri is already moving, pulling up exterior feeds. “Dead zone,” he mutters, rewinding footage. “Here. Seventeen seconds between sweeps. Whoever did this knew the pattern.”
Roman swears softly. “That drop—stone-weighted paper. Old method.” He looks up at me. “Markov uses kids for that. Ghost cells. Low value, high message.”
My fingers drum once. Twice. Even. Measured.
“He wanted her to find it alone,” I say.
Lev’s jaw flexes. “That means proximity.”
“That means intent,” I correct. “Last night was proof of reach. This was proof of confidence.”
Dimitri glances toward the glass wall, then back to the screen. “Sniper trajectory matches yesterday’s shot. Same discipline. Same patience.”
Roman shakes his head. “He’s escalating.”
“No,” I say quietly. “He’s settling in.”
Silence drops. Heavy. Charged.
Lev folds his arms. “Your response?”
I finally turn from the glass. “We dismantle the delivery chain first.”
Roman straightens. “Couriers.”
“Handlers,” I add. “Routes. Safe houses. Anyone close enough to pass paper over my walls.”
Dimitri nods. “I can map movement within twelve hours.”
Lev studies me. “And Markov?”
A pause. Not hesitation. Control.
“He watches,” I say. “While we erase his confidence piece by piece.”
Roman’s voice lowers. “Very personal.”
I look back at Raelyn—her hair spilled across my pillow, her fist curled near her face like she’s still bracing for something even in sleep.
“He made it personal.”
Lev exhales slowly. “You’re not thinking like a tactician.”
“No,” I say. “I’m thinking like an executioner.”
No one argues.
Dimitri closes the feed. “We move quietly.”