Page 81 of Filthy Little Fix

The guards take their distance, standing by the doors. They know the rules. They don't come close, don't interrupt.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out.

Luca. I frown. He rarely calls when I'm in meetings.

"Talk."

"Sir, there's been a breach. Security systems are offline."

My first thought is Nyx. The little shit couldn't just enjoy the game; he had to shatter the board. But the thought dies. Luca's breathing—heavy, ragged—isn't the sound of a man reporting one of Nyx's infuriating pranks. And Nyx… Nyx was happy,disgustinglyso. He was twisting me into knots,revelingin the control I exerted over him. This isn't his move.

"What?" I rush him.

"They took out the perimeter guards. They knew the layout, the blind spots. They went straight for the East Wing."

The East Wing.Nyx's room.

The rage, the frustration—everything burns in an instant. I crush the cigarette between my fingers.

"Who?"

"The cameras were off, sir. We can't identify them. They took the asset."

They're fucking dead.

They're all fucking dead.

"Gather the men," I order the only thing that makes sense. "You tell the whole house—I want these fuckersalive. I will kill every fucking onemyself."

The mansion is in chaos.A kind of chaos I haven't seen since the last great territory war fifteen years ago. But this is different. It'spersonal. Ambulances wail at the entrance, carrying away bodies, or what's left of them. Four of my men.Four. Too high a price.

Luca, with a graze wound on his arm, curses as one of the trusted doctors finishes a bandage, staining the velvet of the living room sofa with blood.

Hallways are riddled with holes, walls perforated by bullets, and what was Nyx's bedroom door is now just a black hole.

Svetlana waits for me at the entrance to the room.

"Dante!" she exclaims, hurrying towards me. "We've had numerous casualties. Several men were taken down—they were aiming for Hays."

Rage erodes me. Aiming for Hays. ForNyx. The son of a bitch is too important, too valuable an asset to be a direct target. This means the Malakovs know he's our goddamn tactical advantage.

"Sal is gone," she adds. "And the IT team is in chaos. We're trying to figure out where this attack originated."

No. Sal is loyal. Sal has been with us for years. This is a fucking game, a message. They took NyxandSal. The head of security. This is a direct blow to my throat.

"His family," I say. "Do we know where they are?"

Svetlana blinks, surprised. "I haven't even started looking into that..."

She is efficient, logical, but she doesn't understand the visceral urgency. Chances are Sal is collateral damage, a way to destabilize us further.

But I don't care if Sal was taken or if hefled. His family is a variable. And variables need to be controlled.

I walk into the room. Luca moves his shoulder with a grunt.

"Luca," I call. "Need some time?"

"Negative, Mr. Volkov," he says immediately. "I'm fine."