Chapter 28 - The Warning in the Night
The revelation hit me with the force of a physical blow. Viktorov—the ruthless Eastern European syndicate lord I thought I had permanently banished—was back, and he was hungry for vengeance. He had spent years licking his wounds, nursing a bitter, festering grudge against the man who had stripped away his empire. But instead of launching a suicidal direct assault against my heavily guarded estate, he had chosen a far more insidious strategy: targeting Marcus during his travels between Chicago and California.
I slowly hung up the secure satellite phone, staring at the polished mahogany surface of my desk. The golden peace we had cultivated over the past three years felt suddenly fragile, like spun glass resting on the edge of a jagged cliff.
The heavy oak door of my study creaked open, and Marcus walked in, carrying two mugs of hot coffee. He had been working on his artificial intelligence algorithms in the conservatory all evening, his sleeves rolled up, a relaxed, happy smile on his face.
"Here you go, Boss," Marcus said cheerfully, placing a mug on my desk before noticing the grim, frozen expression on my face. His smile faltered instantly. "What is it? What's wrong?"
I looked up at him, studying the young man who had walked onto my lawn years ago with taped-up sneakers and half a sandwich. He wasn't a helpless kid anymore; he was a brilliant university scholar, a capable ally, and a beloved brother to my daughter. But to Viktorov, he was simply the leverage needed to break my heart.
"Sit down, Marcus," I said quietly, gesturing toward the leather armchair opposite my desk.
Marcus slowly sat down, his dark eyes narrowing with concern. "Boss, you're scaring me. What happened?"
"Miller called," I said flatly. "Intelligence intercepted communications from Viktorov. He's back in play."
Marcus went completely still. The color drained from his face slightly, but his posture didn't crumble. The resilience that had carried him through the brutal poverty of the West Side and the loss of his mother surged forward. "He's coming after me."
"He thinks you're my weak point," I replied, standing up and walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the tranquil gardens. "He thinks that by hurting you, he can hurt my family."
May you like
"I won't let that happen," Marcus said, his voice steady and resolute. "I won't let him use me to destroy everything we've built."
"You aren't fighting this alone, kid," I turned around, meeting his gaze with absolute conviction. "Viktorov wants a war? We'll give him a war. But this time, we don't wait for him to make the first move. We hunt him down before he ever sets foot in the United States."
