Page 18 of Run, Little Rabbit

His eyes meet mine through the glass. He can’t see me through the one-way windows, but the fact that he knows I’m watching soothes those sharp edges of my soul.

Good boy.

Angel smiles wickedly up at me, and I can almost feel his eyes roll. Why does that turn me on so much? The thought that he’s showing off his power even though I know he’ll never do that to me? Perhaps I just love the fact that he’s a brat.

Satisfied that Angel is alright. I call Lev, and he answers immediately.

“Boss.” His voice is tense, which is never a good sign. Lev has always been levelheaded, calm and emotionless on the job. He sounds pissed.

“What’s the problem?”

He takes a deep breath, which just sets my teeth on edge. “Jonnie’s hand was nailed to the door when I got here to check inventory, and we have a crate missing.”

“Do we know who did it?”

“No. The camera footage has been tampered with.”

Fuck. That means either someone knew where to find the cameras or Jonnie was in on it and they left him behind. If it’s the second one, I hope the guy is already dead; otherwise I am going to kill him myself. Slowly.

“Get me everything you can on Jonnie. I want to know everything, Lev. What crate is missing?”

“The AK-47s.”

Fuck. I run my hand down my face. What fucking idiot steals a crate of guns from the Volkovs?

Someone with a death wish, clearly.

“I’m coming. Lock the place down, Lev. No one in or out.”

“Yes, Boss.”

I hang up and clench my fists, trying to restrain the urge to launch my phone across the room. What a fucking mess. First there was Alex, and now this?

Rage storms through me, making my skin feel tight and my jaw tense. I’m clenching my teeth so hard I’m surprised I haven’t cracked a molar.

I slam my fist down on the desk. “Fuck!”

How far does this betrayal go? Who is trying to wriggle their way into the Volkov empire?

If it’s war they want, they’re going to get a war. I’ll fucking obliterate anyone who eventhinksthey can take me down.

I straighten my jacket and hold my head high.

It’s time to remind the world who Maxim Volkov really is.

Chapter Eight

Echo

That’s it. I officially hate this place. It’s too good. How the fuck could theVolkovscreate somewhere classyandcool?

I expected this place to be some seedy, gaudy dive bar, and instead they’ve paired black walls with gold accents to create something sumptuous and sexy.

Fucking assholes.

I don’t even really know why I hate them. I only know that if you cut me open, it would be seared on my bones.

Fuck the Volkovs.