Nikolay
My car came to a stop in front of Alberto’s beach house. I sat silently for a second, contemplating what to do and what was happening.
Whenever we had a meeting, he would call me to his clubs, but never to his estates. But now, I was sitting right outside one of his houses. He called me, asking me to meet him urgently.
And I came without a second thought.
Not because I wanted to. It was because I had to.
I couldn’t stand his ugly face. Every time I saw him, I had to repress the urge to cut his fucking body into pieces and feed it to the dogs. My hatred toward Alberto held no bounds. I was disgusted by the very air he breathed.
And I wished that every time I saw him, I had the power to kill him and watch the life slowly leave his eyes as I ripped his fucking black heart out.
But I couldn’t do any of that.
I leaned against my seat with a sigh. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my raging thoughts and the need for bloodlust. I was here, and I had to get my job done.
Although one question burned through my thoughts.
What was he doing in Florida? I didn’t tell him about Boss’s trip.
That was a big fucking coincidence that he would be here at the same time as Boss.
Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts and stepped out of the car. The door was already opened, so I walked inside without knocking. I didn’t have to. His men would already know I had arrived.
I saw a maid cleaning the kitchen, her back to me. “Where is Alberto?” I asked, my voice grating.
She jumped almost five feet in the air before turning around, her hand over her chest. “Umm…he was in his office the last time I saw him,” she squeaked, her eyes filled with alarm.
“Where is his office?” She pointed silently to the end of the hall. Without a second glance, I followed her direction.
When I reached the end of the hall, I saw a man standing in front the door, guarding it. I nodded toward the door before speaking. “I need to see Alberto. He called me.”
“Who are you?” he asked, his hand reaching for his gun.
“Nikolay.”
Recognition flashed in his eyes. “He’s not here. Boss went out about an hour ago. He had something to take care of.”
“I will wait for him,” I announced, sending him a chilling glare, daring him to refuse me. The man huffed and opened the door for me.
“He should be back soon,” he said, nodding toward the room. I went inside, and he followed me, closing the door behind him. Of course, he would follow me. No way would he have left me alone in Alberto’s office. To him, I was an outsider.
What he didn’t realize was that I was also the insider.
I didn’t sit down. Instead, I paced the office.
Something felt wrong. Alberto would never call me to his house, especially if he wasn’t here. And most importantly, what was he doing here? At the same time as us.
Did he have more spies than we thought?
I rubbed my hand over my head in frustration and tried to suppress the growl that threatened to escape.
I was still pacing when something caught my eyes. It was just a small glimpse, but it was enough for me to stop dead in my tracks.
No fucking way. Fuck no.
I stomped to Alberto’s desk and took the picture frame in my hand. I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me. Maybe it was. I blinked several times, but the picture was still there. She was still there.
I was looking into her green eyes.
Ayla.
My mouth fell open, but I quickly snapped it shut, my jaw grinding with the force. I stared at the picture, my mind going blank for a second.
“Who is she?” I asked out loud, although I already had my answer.
“Boss’s woman,” the man simply replied.
My fingers tightened around the picture frame. “What’s her name?”
“Ayla Abandonato. The bitch ran away months ago. But Boss just found her. That’s where he went. She was hiding with the fucking Russians all this time. Can you believe it?” he said in disgust.
My stomach dropped, and I froze, my muscles locking tight at his words. This couldn’t be happening.
She was an Abandonato. And Alberto’s woman. Was she the traitor?
My chest tightened at that thought. No. I didn’t believe it. There was no way she would betray us.
I stared at the picture. Ayla looked so different here. Her eyes weren’t glowing, like they did now. They were bleak, almost lifeless. She didn’t have a smile. Her face and posture were stiff.
This Ayla looked like the one I had met the first time. When she was dirty, injured, and so fucking scared. The one who was broken.
Alberto was the one who broke her. He was Ayla’s tormentor.
The man’s voice sounded like he was under water as he continued to speak.
“Probably fucked every man there too. That’s what she’s good for. Though I’m not going to complain. Her pussy is one the best. She fit my cock like a glove.”
My mind raged, and I saw red. Placing the picture down, I reached for my gun. He didn’t have a chance to react or reach for his gun. I saw his eyes flare in surprise as I pointed my gun at him. And then I pulled the trigger.
One shot. One bullet, right in the middle of his throat. That was all I needed to kill him.
He sank to the ground soundlessly, his blood surrounded his seizing body. There was blood all over the office and the wall behind him, where some of his flesh had been splattered.
No one fucking talked about Boss’s woman like that. I would never show mercy on men like him.
Without sparing him another glance, I walked out of the office and got into my car. My vision was blinded with Ayla’s picture. The broken look on her face.
And then his words rang through my ears.
The bitch ran away months ago. But Boss just found her. That’s where he went. She was hiding with the fucking Russians all this time.
“Fuck!” I bellowed, punching my steering wheel. I had to warn Alessio. I tore out of the driveway and called his cellphone at the same time.
But he didn’t pick up. Which never happened. He always picked up.
My shoulders ached with tension, and my throat felt suddenly dry. I kept my eyes on the road and drove mindlessly while trying to call the others.
But nobody answered their phones.
I swore loudly, throwing my phone on the seat beside me. The road was packed. I would never get there in time. Alberto left an hour ago. He should have arrived by now. Or maybe he was waiting to attack?
That would have been the perfect time. There were not enough men to protect Ayla or Boss.
Fuck no.
I couldn’t let that happen. Boss couldn’t lose Ayla.
Not now. Not ever.
He wouldn’t survive it. Because I knew, if Ayla lost herself, Boss would lose himself too—he would break.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
I punched the steering wheel again, and pain shot through my fingers. Quickly making a U-turn, I changed the route. For the next thirty minutes, I broke every traffic rule.
When I reached the beach house, I stepped out quickly. The driveway was eerily quiet. But death hung in the air. It was almost chilling.
I ran up the stairs and went into the house but froze in my steps at the sight in front of me.
The house was a mess. Completely destroyed.
Phoenix and Artur were sitting on the couch, their heads in their hands, their posture defeated. Viktor was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, his face twisted in pain.
Both of Boss’s hands were braced against the wall. His face was turned away from me, but I could see his tensed shoulders. His whole body was rigid.
And I noticed something else, too.
Ayla was nowhere to be found.
The realization almost brought me to my knees.
I was too late.