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Serge strides into my office just as I’m finishing up a long, drawn-out meeting with my business partners. I barely notice the sound of the door opening, but I feel his presence like a weight in the room. He’s been improving—taking his responsibilities seriously since the mess with Anthony’s death—but there’s still something dark in his eyes. I’m not sure if it’s his obsessive need for revenge or just the weight of what he’s been through.

I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples to ease the tension from the hours of negotiations. “What is it, Serge?”

He crosses the room, tossing his phone onto my desk. “You’ll want to see this.”

I pick it up, eyeing the screen where a paused CCTV footage flickers. It’s from some grocery store. My brow furrows as I hit play. The camera follows a woman as she moves through the store, checking out her groceries. At first glance, she looks like just another customer, but there’s something about her—something familiar. My eyes narrow, and then it hits me.

Jennifer.

She looks a little different—her hair is tied back in a casual bun, and she’s dressed down, nothing like the professional woman I saw in those tight skirts at the office—but there’s no mistaking her. It’s her. My jaw clenches, and a slow grin spreads across my face.

After months of searching, after her vanishing without a trace, I’ve found her. Or rather, Serge has.

I glance up at him, and he’s watching me closely, gauging my reaction. He knows what this means.

“She’s been hiding out somewhere in Italy,” Serge says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Looks like she’s trying to stay off the radar, but it’s hard to disappear completely. She slipped up.”

I laugh, leaning back in my chair, feeling the tight knot of frustration in my chest loosen slightly. “She must’ve thought she could escape me.” The memory of her defiance, her running off after that night, it still grates on me. And the fact that she dared betray me, leaking information about our business to the Italians—that’s not something I can let go of. “She made a big mistake.”

Serge nods, his expression serious. “You said it yourself, Timur. She ignored your warning, and worse, she betrayed you. You don’t let things like that slide.”

I smirk. “No, I don’t.”

Serge moves to stand by the window, hands in his pockets, still brooding over his own issues, but his eyes flick back to me. “So, what are you going to do?”

I stare at the screen for a long moment, the grainy footage of Jennifer moving through the store playing on a loop in my mind. She’s gotten away with too much, for too long. The way she left, the way she tried to erase me from her life—it’s laughable, really. She should have known better. No one escapes me.

“I’ll deal with her in my own time,” I say, keeping my voice calm and measured, but inside, the anger bubbles. “When I get my hands on her, she’ll regret every second of it.”

Serge nods approvingly, though I can tell he’s still distracted by his own obsessions. “Good. I thought you’d like to know. As for me, I’m going to keep digging into Anthony’s death. There’s more to it, Timur, I swear.”

I wave him off, not really wanting to dive into that mess right now. Serge’s fixation on his friend’s so-called murder has been clouding his judgment for months, and while I sympathize with him to some extent, I’ve got bigger priorities. “Handle it, Serge. Just don’t get too deep. We don’t need more problems.”

He gives a noncommittal grunt and heads for the door, but before he leaves, he glances back at me. “You should be careful with her, Timur. Women like that… they can mess with your head.”

I laugh darkly. “She’s not going to mess with anything anymore.”

Serge leaves, and I’m left alone in the office, staring at the paused footage on the screen. Jennifer Jewels, the woman who thought she could escape me. The woman who dared to betray me and run. I feel a flicker of something—something almost akin to excitement—as I think about seeing her again, about confronting her. It’s not just about revenge, though. No, it’s more than that. She’s different. She got under my skin in a way no one else has.

She’s the first woman in a long time who’s made me feel something, and it pisses me off.

I reach for my phone, dialing Oleg. He picks up after the first ring. “What’s up, Boss?”

“I need you to find someone for me. Jennifer Jewels. I’m sending you her location. Track her down. No more games. I want her brought back to me.”

Oleg doesn’t ask any questions. He knows better than to question me when I’m like this. “Consider it done.”

I hang up, leaning back in my chair and staring out the window. The city skyline stretches out before me, but my mind is far away, already thinking about what I’ll do when I finally get my hands on Jennifer again.

***

Oleg sits across from me, the tension thick in the air as we review the latest intel on Jennifer’s whereabouts. It’s been weeks since Serge first showed me the CCTV footage, and while we’ve made progress, we haven’t been able to close in on her yet. Oleg, as usual, is calm and collected, but I can feel the unease creeping into the room. Something’s off.

“I’ve got a tip,” Oleg says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It’s from one of our guys in the underground network. Apparently, the Italians have a hand in this. Specifically, Chiara Vinci.”

I scowl, the name setting off an immediate rush of anger. Chiara. The daughter of Don Fernando, who we dealt with not too long ago. She’s been a thorn in our side for a while, trying to pick up where her father left off. I know she’s still pissed about her old man’s death and the crumbling of the Italian Mafia’s influence. I wouldn’t put it past her to get involved with Jennifer—especially since her family lost so much because of us.

“Where is she?” I ask, my voice tight with impatience.

Oleg doesn’t blink. “We’ve got her location. She’s been spotted moving around the outskirts of town. We can track her down easily. You want to handle this personally?”

I lean back in my chair, considering it for a moment. Normally, I’d let my guys take care of something like this, but Chiara is a different case. She’s slippery, dangerous. If she’s involved with Jennifer’s disappearance, I want to make sure we get every last piece of information out of her.

“I’m going,” I say, standing up. Oleg raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question me. He knows better than to argue when I’ve made up my mind.

***

We find Chiara holed up in a dingy warehouse on the edge of town, her usual glamorous appearance stripped down to something more practical. She’s with two men, but they’re no match for us. Oleg takes one out with a swift punch to the throat, while I handle the other, slamming his head into the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

Chiara’s eyes widen in shock as I grab her by the arm, yanking her toward me. “You’ve been meddling in things you shouldn’t, Chiara,” I growl, my fingers digging into her skin. “Now, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Jennifer.”

She puts up a front, trying to play it cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Timur.”

I tighten my grip until she winces. “Don’t lie to me, Chiara. I’m not in the mood for games.”

Oleg stands nearby, watching, but I can tell he’s concerned. He’s seen me like this before—when I get too wrapped up in something, too intense. This is different. This is personal.

Chiara swallows hard, the fear starting to seep into her eyes. “Alright, fine,” she hisses, her bravado cracking. “I know where she is.”

I don’t let up. “That’s a start, but not good enough. I need everything. Her schedule, her contacts, her fucking phone number. You’ve been in contact with her, haven’t you?”

She hesitates for a split second, and I know I’ve hit the mark. “Yes,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve been helping her.”

I grab her by the chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Why?”

“She’s scared of you,” Chiara snaps, her defiance returning. “She’s running because she knows what you are, what you’re capable of.”

“Tell me everything, and you might make it out of this unscathed.”

Chiara laughs bitterly. “You’ll have to force it out of me. I’ve told you too much already.”

My hands flex, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to knock her lights out. “You did a stupid thing, hiding her from me.” I’m not done yet. I close the distance between me and Chiara again, grabbing her by the collar of her jacket. “You’re going to tell me everything about Jennifer’s life. Every single detail.”

I stare her down, weighing my options. The rage boiling inside me is overwhelming, but I need her alive—at least for now. She’s the key to finding Jennifer, to getting the answers I need.

I shove Chiara toward Oleg. “Take her to the car,” I order, my voice cold and detached.

Oleg hesitates for a moment, glancing at me with concern. “Timur, you’re pushing it.”

I shoot him a warning look. “Do your job.”

***

Hours later I sit at my desk, wiping the last trace of blood from my hands with a cloth. The crimson stains are almost symbolic now, a permanent mark of what I’ve become—and of what I’m willing to do. The room smells of antiseptic and iron, the remnants of tonight’s work hanging thick in the air.

Chiara broke. It took longer than I expected, but she gave me everything I needed to know about Jennifer. Her new name and identity, her work-from-home job, her daily schedule, even where she shops. Every little detail that will make her easy to find.

I toss the cloth aside and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment. My thoughts drift to Jennifer, the woman who thought she could outrun me, who thought she could live a life outside of my control.

I smile bitterly. She doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does.

The thrill of the hunt has always been something I’ve savored, but this time, there’s an edge to it. It’s personal. Jennifer didn’t just run away—she disappeared without a trace, without a word. She chose to betray me, and that’s a debt that needs to be paid.

My phone buzzes on the desk, dragging me back from my thoughts. It’s a message from Oleg, confirming that Chiara is locked up. Safe for now. I don’t trust her entirely—there’s something she’s still holding back, something deeper. Every time I pressed her, she hesitated, her eyes darting away like she was calculating the exact amount of truth to give me without giving it all.

I clench my jaw, staring down at my phone screen. What could she possibly still be hiding?

Jennifer’s schedule is perfect. Her movements are routine, predictable. There’s no security around her. No signs of anyone protecting her. She’s living a simple life, working at some local place. The more I read about her, the more it pisses me off.

She really thought she could escape me.

My fingers tap rhythmically against the desk as I consider my next move. There’s nothing stopping me from going after her right now. I could take her tonight, pull her right out of whatever peaceful life she’s built for herself. That’s too easy. Too quick. No, I want her to feel the weight of her betrayal first. I want her to know that running was a mistake, one she’ll regret for the rest of her life.

Still, Chiara’s hesitation bothers me. I trust my instincts, and right now, they’re telling me that she hasn’t given me everything. There’s a piece of the puzzle missing.

I stand up, pacing the room. What could Chiara possibly still be holding back?

I’ve broken her, shattered any illusion of resistance she had left. Yet, the way she looked at me during that final moment, just before she gave up Jennifer’s details… it was like she knew something that I didn’t.

I stop pacing, leaning against the edge of my desk as I think it over. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Chiara’s just trying to play games. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s protecting something more valuable than Jennifer’s location.

My chest tightens at the thought. What could possibly be more important than Jennifer herself?

I can’t shake the feeling. It gnaws at me, deep and insistent, like an itch I can’t scratch. There’s something more, and I need to find out what it is.

I reach for my phone again, dialing Oleg’s number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Anything else from Chiara?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, though the frustration lingers.

“Nothing new. She’s been quiet,” Oleg replies. “We got everything we needed from her. Why?”

I exhale slowly, my gaze shifting back to the bloodstained cloth on my desk. “I don’t know. Something feels off. She’s hiding something.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, then Oleg speaks again. “You think it’s about Jennifer?”

“Maybe,” I say, my voice low. “Chiara’s told us everything, but I’m not done with her. I want you to let her go, but keep her under surveillance. If she tries to communicate with anyone, I want to know about it. If she knows something more about Jennifer, I’ll break her again if I have to.”

Oleg grunts in agreement. “Understood. What’s the next move?”

I lean back, my grip tightening on the phone. “We stick to the plan. I’ll let Jennifer settle into her false sense of security for now.”

I pause, thinking about the Italian woman who had thought she could outplay me. “I still can’t believe Jennifer went to the Italians.”

Oleg says nothing, but I know he’s on the same page. I hang up, my mind drifting back to Jennifer.

She thought she could run, thought she could hide. She doesn’t realize I always get what I want.