Page 119 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

“Always be prepared,” she whispers, like it’s a family mantra. I don’t deserve her trust, not after everything I did. But she gives it anyway.

I rub feeling back into my wrists, heart hammering. The guard I took down is still groaning, barely conscious. His gun lies a few feet away, forgotten.

“Cover me,” I murmur to Katya.

She nods, already positioning herself to intercept any movement.

I drop to my knees and crawl, metal and dust grinding beneath my palms. My fingers close around the pistol just as the generators groan to life and the lights snap back on.

“There!” someone shouts.

Bullets chew into the floor where I’d just been.

I roll hard behind a rusted hunk of machinery, pressing flat against it, adrenaline flooding my limbs. Through a gap in the frame, I see Katya and Katarina sprinting from cover to cover.

Matvei has climbed a platform, barking orders, his gun raised. He’s scanning for targets, hunting through the panic. Yakov is nowhere in sight.Probably vanished the moment the situation spiraled.

And then I see him.

Vasiliy.

He slips through a side door like a shadow—no wasted movement, only controlled violence. His eyes lock on mine from across the floor.

And suddenly, the room doesn’t matter. The blood doesn’t matter.

He’s here.

A tether snaps taut between us. I see the relief, the rage, the quiet explosion of joy flicker behind the fury in his eyes.

I nod once.I’m okay.

His mouth tilts into the smallest, fiercest smile. Pride. Purpose. Promise.

Then the room detonates.

Gunfire erupts from every side. Metal screams. Concrete chips fly. The warehouse transforms into a battlefield.

I stay low, bolting toward Katya and Katarina’s position behind a steel column. They’ve both armed themselves—Katarina with a pistol, Katya with a pipe like she was born wielding it.

“Vasiliy’s here,” I say, though they already know. We can feel him now; his presence swallowing the space.

“Nikolai and Igor can’t be far behind,” Katya mutters.

“We need to move,” Katarina says, nodding toward a door half concealed behind stacked crates. “East exit is our best shot.”

We prepare to run, but before we can move, Matvei’s voice rips through the chaos.

“Volkov! I know you’re here! Come out, or I start putting bullets in your women. One by one.”

I freeze, blood icing over. For a split second, I’m terrified Vasiliy might do it, might step into the open and offer himself up just to protect us. Exactly what Matvei wants.

But then?—

A different voice answers. Calm. Clear. Laced with frost.

“It’s over, Matvei.”

Yakov emerges from the shadows, flanked by men I don’t recognize.

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