Page 8

Ivan

The city’s lights blur through the window as we drive, the rhythmic hum of the engine filling the silence between us.

I’m in the passenger seat, staring out at the darkened streets, my thoughts occupied with the matter at hand. Maxim’s hands grip the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road, but I can tell he’s just as deep in thought. The situation with Sarah has taken an unexpected turn, and neither of us is entirely sure where it’s going to lead.

“Kace hasn’t responded,” Maxim says, breaking the silence. His voice is flat, carrying the weight of his frustration. “No ransom demands, no negotiations—nothing. It’s been days. He’s not coming for her.”

“He won’t pay to get her back,” I reply, the truth settling in my mind with cold finality. It’s a move that’s as ruthless as it is predictable. Kace Preston is a man who values power and control above all else. If he’s decided that Sarah is a liability, he won’t hesitate to cut her loose.

Maxim snorts, his usual confidence returning in the form of disdain. “She’s useless to us, then. Dead weight.”

“Not necessarily,” I counter, my tone thoughtful. “She’s smart, resourceful—she’s proven that much already. We could find a use for her.”

Maxim glances at me, skeptical. “You think she’d work with us after everything?”

I smirk, considering the possibilities. “People do a lot of things when they’re desperate. She might see an opportunity in staying alive. Besides, there’s something about her. She’s tougher than she looks.”

Maxim doesn’t argue, but I can tell he’s not entirely convinced. We’re both seasoned enough to know that loyalty is a fickle thing in our world. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Sarah than meets the eye, something that could be valuable if handled correctly.

We pull up to the warehouse, the building looming in the darkness like a fortress. As we get out of the car, the cold night air bites at my skin, sharpening my senses. The usual guard isn’t stationed outside, which immediately sets off alarm bells in my mind.

“Where’s the guard?” I ask, my voice low and tense as we approach the entrance. Maxim frowns, clearly thinking the same thing.

“Inside, maybe?” he suggests, though his tone is doubtful. There’s no reason for the guard to be inside, and we both know it.

I don’t reply, pushing the door open and stepping inside, my instincts on high alert. The sound of our footsteps echoes in the empty hallway as we head downstairs to the basement, the air growing colder with each step. Something is wrong—I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.

When we reach the cell, the door is ajar, and I push it open fully, bracing myself for whatever we might find. The scene that greets us is not what I expected.

Sarah stands in the middle of the room, her eyes wide with shock, her body trembling. Blood pools around her feet, staining the concrete floor a dark, viscous red. Our newest guard lies at her feet, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, a stab wound in his chest still leaking blood. The knife in Sarah’s hand is slick with it, her grip loose as if she’s barely holding on.

Maxim steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight. “He was new,” he mutters, more to himself than to me, as he crouches down to inspect the body. His gaze catches on the man’s chest, where the familiar snake tattoo is visible through the torn fabric of his shirt.

I understand immediately. The guard wasn’t just new—he was a plant, a mole sent by Kace to tie up loose ends. He was here to silence Sarah before she could become a liability. And she killed him.

I approach Sarah slowly, my eyes never leaving her face. She’s pale, her expression one of utter disbelief, as if she can’t quite process what she’s done. Her hand shakes as she drops the knife, the clatter of metal on concrete echoing through the room.

“I… I killed him,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking the words out loud will make them real. Tears well up in her eyes, and she looks at me as if searching for some kind of absolution, some reassurance that what she’s done was necessary, even justified.

I don’t offer comfort. Instead, I grin, an amused satisfaction curling through me as I see this new side of her. Fierce, capable of violence when pushed to the edge. She’s more than just a hacker, more than a pawn in someone else’s game. She’s a survivor, and that’s something I can work with.

“It’ll get easier,” I say quietly, stepping closer until I’m standing right in front of her. Her eyes are fixed on the bloodstain spreading across the floor, but I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “The first kill always hits hard, but it’s part of the life you’ve chosen.”

She doesn’t respond, but I can see the war raging in her eyes, the battle between the person she thought she was and the reality of what she’s just done. She’s been in the Mafia for years, yes, but this is different. This is personal, and it’s a line she’s never crossed before.

“It’ll make you stronger,” I continue, my voice steady and calm. “You’ve proven you can do what it takes to survive. Now you need to own it.”

She blinks, a tear spilling down her cheek, but she doesn’t pull away from my grip. There’s a part of her that’s listening, that’s trying to make sense of this new world she’s stepped into. As I look into her eyes, I see the potential for something more—a willingness to adapt, to become something more dangerous than she already is.

Maxim stands, wiping the blood from his hands with a look of distaste. “What do you want to do with her now, Ivan?”

I don’t take my eyes off Sarah as I respond, my tone leaving no room for doubt. “We keep her. She’s valuable.”

Sarah’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t argue. She’s still processing, still trying to reconcile what she’s done with who she is. I can see the strength in her, the determination that will eventually win out over the fear.

I keep my eyes locked on Sarah as she stands there, trembling and on the verge of breaking down. The blood on the floor has started to congeal, its dark red color seeping into the cracks of the concrete. The lifeless man, his face twisted in the final moments of pain and betrayal, lies at her feet. She’s still trying to process it all, still fighting against the reality of what she’s done.

This world doesn’t give room for hesitation or weakness, and I’m not about to let her wallow in denial.

“Kace gave up on you,” I say, my voice cold and unforgiving. “The man you were so loyal to, the man you thought would protect you—he sent that man to kill you. You were a loose end, Sarah. A liability.” I tighten my grip on her wrist, dragging her closer to the body on the floor. She resists, trying to pull away, but I don’t let her. She needs to see this, needs to understand the dark reality she’s been thrown into. “Look at him,” I command, my voice harsh, unyielding. “This is the truth of our world. You’re either useful, or you’re dead.”

Her eyes widen, filling with fresh tears as she stares at the body, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She tries to shut her eyes, tries to block out the sight of the man she killed, but I won’t let her. “Don’t look away,” I snap, pulling her closer, forcing her to confront what she’s done. “You need to understand, Sarah. This is what happens when you’re no longer valuable. Kace knew that, and so do I. If you want to survive, you’d better figure out how to stay useful.”

Her sobs break through, and I can feel the tension in her body, the overwhelming fear and despair that’s tearing her apart. Her eyes squeeze shut as the tears spill over, running down her cheeks in hot, salty streams. I realize then that I’m gripping her wrist too tightly, the fragile bones of her arm straining against my hold. I release her suddenly, the mark of my fingers already beginning to darken on her pale skin.

She stumbles back, cradling her wrist against her chest, her breath coming in shallow, hiccupping gasps. I can see the red imprint of my fingers on her skin, a physical reminder of the power I hold over her. There’s no satisfaction in it, only the cold, relentless march of necessity.

“Take her out of here,” I order, my voice hard as I turn to the men standing by. “She won’t be kept in this cell anymore.”

The men move quickly, stepping forward to seize Sarah by the arms. She struggles weakly, her fear escalating as she realizes she’s being taken somewhere new, somewhere unknown.

“Where are you taking me?” she cries out, her voice laced with panic. “What are you going to do to me?”

Her pleas fall on deaf ears. The men drag her from the room, her voice fading as she’s pulled down the hallway, the sound of her footsteps echoing against the concrete. I watch her go, my expression unreadable. This is what she needs to learn—what she needs to understand if she’s going to be of any use to me. In our world, there’s no room for sentimentality or weakness. Only survival.

When the room falls silent again, I turn to Maxim, who’s been watching the scene with a guarded expression. He’s smart enough to know not to intervene, but I can see the questions in his eyes, the flicker of doubt that comes with the realization of just how deep the betrayal runs.

“That man was a traitor,” I say, nodding toward the body on the floor. “Sent by Kace to clean up his mess. We need to be more careful with who we recruit. If there’s one rat, there could be more.”

Maxim nods, his face hardening with the same resolve that I feel. “I’ll take care of it,” he says, his voice grim. “We’ll go through the ranks, vet everyone again. No one gets in without us knowing exactly who they are and where their loyalties lie.”

“Good,” I reply, my tone decisive. “We can’t afford any more mistakes. Not with the Preston family watching our every move.”

Maxim glances at the body, then back at me. “Sarah?”

“She’ll come around,” I say, my voice calm, though the memory of her tear-streaked face lingers in my mind. “She’s valuable, but only if she learns quickly. We need to break her down so we can build her back up—stronger, more useful.”

Maxim’s eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place, but he doesn’t argue. He knows the game as well as I do. There’s no room for pity, not in the world we’ve built. He steps forward, crouching beside the body to examine the snake tattoo one last time before standing again, his expression dark.

“We’ll get rid of the body,” he says, already moving to take care of the mess. “No one needs to know about this.”

I nod, watching as he begins to clean up the scene, efficiently erasing the evidence of the betrayal that nearly cost us everything. Even as he works, my thoughts drift back to Sarah, to the fear in her eyes as she was dragged away.

She’s a fighter, that much is clear. She’s new to this level of brutality, new to the reality that comes with taking a life. It’s a harsh lesson, but one she needed to learn. And once she does, she’ll be stronger for it. Or she won’t survive at all.

Either way, the game is far from over. I intend to win.