Page 34 of Obsessed Bratva King

What’s on it? I have to find out.

I clench my jaw as she stares at the screen, her brow furrowing, her lips parting slightly in confusion. She recognizes something.

What do you see, little princess?

The laptop screen flickers in the footage. She rips the flash drive out and shoves it into her handbag with shaking hands.

My phone vibrates. I glance at the screen. Maxim.

I pick up at once.

"Movement confirmed," Maxim says, straight to the point. "Darren is heading for New York right now with a lot of men. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“He coming to catch a show?”

“He’s coming for Cora.”

“That girl you’re stalking?” He sounds surprised. “Why?”

“She found a flash drive sewn into the bag, plugged it in. Guessing it had a tracker embedded. Darren knows where it is, knows where she is. He’s coming to get it back.”

“What’s on it?”

“I don’t know yet but I’ll find out soon enough.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Get her, get the flash drive, kill anyone who tries to stop me.”

“Good plan.”

The streets outside Cora’s restaurant are quiet.

Too quiet.

I sit in my SUV, engine off, gun in my lap resting against my thigh. My fingers tap lightly against the leather, slow and methodical. Calculating.

When they come for her, they die.

Simple.

I adjust the mirror, scanning the street. No movement. No obvious signs of trouble. But my instincts are razor-sharp, honed over years of navigating battlefields far worse than this one.

Then—

A shift in the air.

A presence.

More than one.

I stiffen, my grip tightening slightly. My pulse doesn’t spike. My breathing doesn’t change. But my instincts flare red-hot.

I clock the movement in my periphery.

A dark car pulls up behind my own.

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