Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“If he dies,” I snarled, “I will burn your entire fucking empire to the ground starting with you,” I promised. “Mark my fucking words, Pakhan.”
Anatoly clenched his jaw, but he kept his mouth shut. Turning on my heel, I stormed out of the room. Two officers were waiting on me, and the smile I aimed at them was cruel and full of pure malice. “Problem, officers?” I taunted.
“Let him go,” Anatoly said from behind me.
The officers stepped aside dutifully, and I stormed out of the hospital. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I called Hyram. He answered on the second ring. “Rurik,” he drawled.
“Your brother is laid up in a hospital bed,” I told him, barely recognizing my own voice. “Get two men up here to protect him. We’re at fucking war.”
With that, I hung up the phone and made my way to the SUV. Whoever put those bullets in my man was about to fucking meet their goddamn maker.
And I didn’t mean the man high in the fucking sky.
Nah.
They were about to meet me.
19
Rurik
There wasn’t a security system I couldn’t hack my way into. If the FBI knew about me, they wouldn’t lock me up behind bars. No—they’d try to recruit me. To bring me under their control. Because I wasn’t just good at hacking; I had a knack for always getting what I wanted.
Right then, what I wanted was the blood of whoever put Malik in the hospital on my fucking hands.
I growled under my breath when yet another security camera didn’t show me anything. Gritting my teeth, I shoved my laptop away and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to force myself to think past the rage bubbling in my gut. From what I saw from the restaurant’s camera feeds, it’d been a sniper that hit Malik with those bullets. And Anatoly was right—those bullets had been meant for him, not my man.
Yet Malik had shoved Anatoly out the way and taken those bullets for him.
“You fucking idiot,” I whispered to myself.
Shoving from the bed, I paced to the window and crossed my arms, looking out over the streets. I needed to think like a sniper. Like someone intent on taking out a high-value target. There’d be a lot of money riding on a hit like that, which meant there would be a lot more risk. Anatoly was not just the leader of a huge criminal organization. He was involved in politics all over the world. He was a businessman.
His death—or even the attempt on his life—would make a big splash. And it already was. Even on my way back into the hotel, all I’d heard were people whispering about the attempt on Anatoly Balakin’s life and the unknown man who’d saved him, risking his own life in the process.
Yeah… Malik was going to fucking pay for that one when he woke up.
I focused on the buildings across from me. If I, personally, was taking out a high-value target like the Pakhan, I’d get somewhere that couldn’t be easily seen by cameras. I’d be crouched low so no one could see me from the street. I’d be close enough to get my shot cleanly, but I’d still be far enough away that when the job was done, I could quickly gather my shit and get the fuck out.
Or maybe I wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t go on the run. Maybe, if I had balls big enough, I’d live my life normally. And a man taking on the job of assassinating Anatoly Balakin had balls that were just about too fucking big for the United States of America.
If I was just cocky enough, too, I’d do the hit from my apartment. And there were apartment buildings over there. Because who would think to look in someone’s own home first? If someone was just cocky enough, they’d think, surely, no one would do a hit from the comfort of their own fucking living room. Which would give them ample amounts of time to do clean up and get rid of the weapon.
I snatched up my laptop again and watched the video where Malik got shot, forcing my rage down as I watched those bullets slam into him and knock him back against the SUV. Instead, I watched that laser, and then, I went through all the surrounding buildings, going through their security feeds again. Except this time, I was much more careful.
This time, I was thinking like the sniper.
And there.
Mother fuck, am I fucking good.
Sure enough, it was coming from an apartment. The rifle was just resting on the edge of the window. I would’ve missed it if I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for. I zoomed in, taking in the furnishings. It was a small apartment, just a studio. A bed was against one wall, and a TV was mounted across from it. There was a bowl of some kind of food sitting on the kitchen table. No doubt, he’d paused his dinner to try to take out Anatoly.