The air was too still.
Even before Dominic reached the end of the corridor, he knew sothing was off. Sothing in the silence told him that tonight wasn’t just about negotiation. It would also be about survival.
His shoes made a sharp sound against the marble, steady and deliberate. The private suite lood ahead with glass walls, gold handles, and an expensive disguise for a room ant to spill blood.
Six of his n followed behind him. They didn’t speak. Even his n felt the shift in the air, and in that line, they knew that if things went wrong, they might not walk out together.
Dominic stopped at the door. His eyes scanned the fra, the hinges, and the faintest glint of sothing tallic tucked at the edge of the chandelier reflection. His eyes landed on a sniper’s sight.
He didn’t flinch.
He just adjusted his cuff, pushed the door open, and stepped in like he owned the damn place.
Grigor was waiting at the far end of the suite, lounging by the long glass table like a man who’d already counted his winnings. His smirk stretched thin, showing off gold and nicotine-stained teeth.
"Dominic," he drawled. "On ti, as always."
Dominic’s gaze swept over the room once. Six of Grigor’s n stationed around the table, with another three pretending to blend into the shadows near the bar. They all sll of expensive whiskey mixed with gun oil.
"You wanted to talk," Dominic said. His tone was flat, and asured. "Talk."
Grigor laughed. "Straight to business. You haven’t changed."
"Neither have you," Dominic said quietly, his eyes never leaving him. Grigor was like a ticking bomb. He always has a new personality whenever he needed sothing beneficial to himself.
When he called Dominic an hour ago, he said he needed to talk in person, and couldn’t speak over the phone because his phone might have been tempered with.
They sat. Dominic didn’t touch the drink poured for him. He waited, letting the silence stretch until it began to choke.
Then Grigor leaned forward, with his elbows on the table. "Carlos wants the marriage done. And he would release the gas on the streets soonest than he intended. He said you shouldn’t push him," he said.
Dominic’s jaw flexed. "Carlos doesn’t know the aning of the word ’marriage’."
Grigor smiled again. His smile ca out too easily. "He does now. He wants to end this war before it ruins us all."
Dominic said nothing. He’d heard this line before. It was the sa tone n used when they’d already made their decision and were only pretending to negotiate.
And then, there it was. A flicker in the air. There was the faintest glance between Grigor and the man standing at his left.
It hit Dominic like a cold rush.
He’d been right.
The sound ca before the sight of what brought the sound. "Down!" Dominic barked, his voice slicing through the room.
The first shot shattered the wine glass near his hand. The second shot hit his man, Luka, who stood beside him. Luka didn’t hesitate. He shoved Dominic hard to the ground, using his own body as a shield.
The impact cracked through the air.
Dominic’s breath left his lungs in a violent rush. He caught Luka’s eyes for a fraction of a second. They were wide, burning with loyalty and pain as he drew in his last gush of breath.
Then they went still.
Dominic rolled, fury igniting through his veins like wildfire. His n returned fire instantly, and the suite exploded into chaos. Bullets tore through the glass, with wines splattering red across the floor, indistinguishable from blood.
He saw Grigor moving, but not fighting. He was not even ducking, but just watching. His expression was cold, and calculated. He already had all of these planned out.
A friend wouldn’t watch.
Dominic froze for half a second, long enough for the realization to burn deep. This wasn’t Carlos’ ambush alone. This was Grigor’s stage.
The betrayal settled like iron in his chest. It tore his chest open, and the pain ripped him apart.
This wasnt just anyone betraying him. This was Grigor!
Another shot rang out, close. The shot was too close to co from Carlos, or Grigor’s n. Dominic spun, his instinct taking over. And then, he saw it. One of his own n, Matteo, the one who’d guarded his back for six years, had also betrayed him.
Matteo had his muzzle aid at him.
Dominic’s pulse steadied. He saw Matteo’s finger tighten on the trigger and then, it was too late.
The bullet grazed Dominic’s shoulder, tearing through the flesh. Dominic stared at his shoulder, and he nodded slowly with a blank expression.
His own gun ca up in a clean arc, and the next sound was Matteo’s body hitting the floor.
There was no hesitation in his revenge.
Smoke filled the air. Dominic’s n were down to two. The others were dead.
Grigor was running now, dragging one of his n toward the side exit. Dominic raised his gun, with his sight locked on him. His blood was slick against the grip.
He hissed, cursed under his breath, and fired once. The bullet caught Grigor between his shoulder blades.
Grigor stumbled, crashed against the glass door, and fell forward with a guttural sound. He didn’t die. Dominic could see his hand twitching, and his body heaving as he crawled toward the exit.
Dominic didn’t chase him.
Not yet.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling hard, eyes sweeping over the carnage. Luka’s body was still slumped near the table. The floor was slick with blood and whiskey.
Dominic turned his gun in his hand, checked the chamber, and muttered low under his breath, almost to himself.
"You made your choice, Grigor."
He’d bury Luka and his other n properly. All of them except the traitor. He’d find Grigor later.
Dominic barely took a step before a flicker caught the corner of his eye.
There was a movent.
A man, one of Grigor’s who lay sprawled on the ground, moved. Half his face was burned by the blast, his eyes were glassy but not gone.
The man’s hand trembled, slow, and desperate. Then Dominic saw the gun. The man didn’t think.
He lifted the gun, and the shot cracked through the air before Dominic could even turn fully.
Pain tore through Dominic’s side. The pain was sharp, and imdiate. It burned hot under his ribs. His knees almost buckled. For a second, the room tilted.
The bastard had shot him.
Dominic’s eyes snapped to him. He lifted his own gun. One clean pull of the trigger, and the man’s head dropped back with a dull thud.
Silence fell upon the room.
Dominic pressed a hand to his stomach. When he lifted his hand to stare at it, he saw red. He cursed under his breath, forcing his body upright. "Move," he ordered, voice low and rough. The two n left standing snapped out of their daze and rushed to him.
"Boss—"
"Don’t talk," Dominic cut in, staggering toward the door. His breath ca hard, but his steps didn’t falter.
They made it through the broken hallway, with glass crunching under their boots. The night air hit his face like ice when they stepped outside.
Dominic stopped by the car. One hand gripped the door, and his other still pressed to his wound. His shirt was soaked through. He stood there for a mont, letting the cold slice through the pain.
"Get Luka. And the others." he said quietly.
His voice was even. Controlled and calm, as he tried to keep himself in check.
One of his n hesitated. "Sir, you’re bleeding—"
"Get. Them."
The man ran back in. Dominic leaned against the car for a second. His vision blurred at the edges. The sound of sirens echoed faintly in the distance, but he didn’t care.
He looked up at the sky.
He should’ve seen it coming. He always saw it coming, so why didn’t he see it clearly this ti, to expect it?
Grigor’s betrayal. Matteo’s bullet.
He should’ve known the ga had changed the mont Carlos made his move.
Dominic’s jaw tightened. He pushed off the car, straightened, and let the night wind dry the blood on his hand.
"Let’s go," he said once Luka’s body and that of the others was loaded into the back.
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