Page 51 of When We Collide

I shake my head, and it feels like my throat is closing. “No...”

“I’ll see you on the other side, baby girl. I love you.” I know Dean is trying to keep the fear out of his voice, but I hear the tremble when he utters those final words.

Tears fill my eyes and when the communication cuts off and all that can be heard is static, I let out an ear-splitting cry and crumble to my knees. “No! Dean!”

Son of a donkey fucking bitch!

I let out a guttural groan as Viktor's sharp kick connects with my ribs, causing me to double over in pain. The force is so strong that I can feel the wind being knocked out of me. My teeth are clenched tightly together, and my entire body tenses up for a brief moment before collapsing to the ground. Through the haze of agony, I can hear the faint sound of bones cracking, but I hope it's just my elbow taking most of the impact instead of my ribcage. As I lie there, gasping for air and trying to regain control of my limbs, I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, urging me to fight back. But I stay still, knowing that letting Viktor think he has broken something will give me theupper hand in this vicious battle. He may be a weedy cunt, but he is also cunning and ruthless, and I have to play dirty if I want to come out on top in this deadly game we’re playing.

I’m counting down the minutes in my head. Telling myself that it will be over soon and perhaps I might just make it home to Jeyla and DJ. Unless of course he pulls the gun and shoots me, then, it’s game over… formeat least.

This operation has been in the works for quite some time, with numerous unexpected twists and turns along the way—as of most recently of course—but we’ve finally gathered enough dirt on this bastard and all his allies to bury him for good. I wheeze out a laugh as I push myself up onto my knees and spit out the blood I can feel gathering in my mouth where the prick sucker punched me earlier.

“You’re laughing?” Viktor questions as he rolls the sleeves of his navy-blue Prada shirt until the material is coiled around his elbows. “Pick him up,” Viktor orders, gesturing to two of his goons standing beside him and they obey his command, lifting me up off the ground and up to my feet. Fuck, if my feet weren’t bound, I would have knocked his head right off his chin. “Come on, share the joke so we can all laugh, Captain.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you, but I don’t think you’ll find it quite as amusing.” I utter with a dark smirk.

“Try me.”

I shrug, “All right.” When the cable ties around my wrists loosen, I pull my hands free and hold them up for him, wagging my fingers. “See, I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” The arrogant smile on Viktor’s face falls as he stares at his two men—who are in fact Special Forces Officers. They release their hold on me andJack, the one to my right, kneels down to cut the ties around my ankles. Ah, the dumbfounded look on his face was worth all the blows I took. Viktor’s hand swiftly reaches behind to draw out his gun, but I step forward, eyes narrowed. “Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” All eight men that were standing in the room draw their guns and aim them straight at Viktor.

Viktor's cobalt blue eyes dart wildly around the room, widening in disbelief as he takes in the scene. “What the fuck…?” he mutters, his voice tinged with confusion and rage.

I step forward, my fists clenched tightly at my sides, each step sending a sharp ache through my bruised ribs. But the pain is irrelevant now—this moment is mine. I can’t help the grim satisfaction that curls through me as I see the dawning realization on his face.

“You know why arrogant, self-obsessed assholes like you always lose, Viktor?” I begin, my voice steady, each word dripping with the contempt I’ve harboured for far too long. “It's because you all carry this delusional belief that you're invincible, like some kind of untouchable God. You're so wrapped up in your own bullshit, so lost in your own inflated sense of self-importance, that you don't even bother to know the names—or hell, even the faces—of the men you hire to protect you and carry out your dirty work.”

I keep moving closer, watching as confusion morphs into fear in his eyes. “Look around, Viktor,” I continue, my tone sharpening. “Every single one of these men you think are yours—aren’t. They're Special Forces Officers; men we strategically swapped in with your own when they fired on us earlier. We only needed one familiar face to pull it off—Jack, or should I say,SergeantJack Morris—and you didn't even notice anything was different.”

Viktor's expression shifts from shock to utter disbelief, his mind racing to process the betrayal. I stop just inches from him, the tension between us crackling like a live wire.

The colour drains from Viktor’s face as he scans the room, his eyes flicking from one man to the next, desperately searching for something—anything—that can save him from this reality. But there’s nothing. Just the cold, hard truth staring him in the face.

His mouth opens and closes, as if he wants to say something, but no words come. The silence between us is thick, suffocating, and I can see the wheels turning in his mind, the frantic calculations as he tries to figure out where he went wrong, how he missed this. But the answer is simple. Arrogance. Hubris. The very things that always lead men like him to their downfall.

“You never even saw it coming,” I finish, my voice low and laced with triumph. “Because you were too blinded by your own arrogance to see the trap closing in around you.”

I take a step back, watching as Viktor’s legs seem to buckle slightly beneath him. The power has shifted entirely now, and he knows it. I see the fear in his eyes, the realization that he’s lost control; of this room, of his men, of his fate. He’s no longer the one pulling the strings.

“You see,” I continue, my tone almost conversational now, as if we’re discussing the weather rather than his impending downfall, “men like you never last. You rise fast, burn bright, but it’s always the same. You’re so obsessed with your own power, your own image, that you forget the basics. You forget that real strength comes from knowing your enemy, from paying attention to the details. But you? You never even bothered to look.”

Viktor swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to regain some semblance of control, but it’s futile. His empire is crumbling around him, and he’s powerless to stop it.

“And now,” I say, leaning in close, my voice a low growl, “you’re going to watch everything you built fall apart. As we speak everything you own… down to your silk boxers, are being seized.”

I step back, giving him space to absorb the gravity of his situation. The room is silent, the tension thick as Viktor’s eyes dart around, searching for some way out, some escape. But there is none. He’s cornered, trapped by his own arrogance and the very men he thought he controlled.

This is the moment I’ve waited for—the moment when Viktor Lukin realizes that he’s not the God he believed himself to be, but just another man brought low by his own hubris. And as I stand over him, watching the fear and despair fill his eyes, I know that justice has finally been served. The warehouse doors bust open and armed officers swarm in.

“Oh, and…” My hand fists and I swing my right arm, punching him with as much force and power as I can muster across the face. The moment my fist connnects with Viktor’s jaw, I feel that satisfying crunch against my knuckles and it’s satisfying as fuck. Viktor hits the floor like a sack of shit. “That’s for the devastation you have caused my wife.” I snarl icily, and kick away the gun that slips out of his grasps when he hits the floor. “And this…” Using the steelcap of my boot, I kick him, ramming it hard into his ribs and breaking at least two. Viktor lets out an ear-splitting cry and doubles over. That’s how you break a fucking rib, you cunt. “…is for coming after my son.”

“You think this is over?” Lukin wheezes, his words sharp and acidic. “You know as well as I do, they can’t keep me in for long. I’ll be out in twenty-four hours. I’m Viktor Lukin, one of the most powerful men in the world. They have nothing on me,” he sneers confidently.

“Oh, we have plenty on you,” I reply, my own voice laced with satisfaction. “There is no one left to save you this time, Viktor. You and every single one of your associates who aided and abetted you in the last ten years have been detained.” The credence of my words hangs heavily in the air, a final nail in the coffin for Lukin's criminal empire.

I can see the defiance flicker in his eyes before they narrow into a glare. “You’re bluffing.”

“I assure you, I am not. From this day on, the only business you have will be cleaning toilets and scrubbing showers on your hands and knees in prison.”

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