Page 74 of Tainted Empire

God, what did I do right to deserve this fucking queen?

In my office with Gabriette, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and theories. The pieces of the puzzle are there, but they’re not fitting together the way they should.

Something about the whole situation feels too simple, too straightforward. And in our world, nothing is ever that simple.

As I’m lost in thought, the door opens and Alexei steps in, breaking the silence. “Time for your training, Mrs Baranova” he announces, his expression unreadable.

Gabriette hesitates, glancing at me with a look that says she’d rather stay. But I know she needs this, needs to keep her edge sharp. “Go,” I urged her gently. “I’ll be fine.”

She gives me a quick, but meaningful kiss goodbye and follows Alexei out. As soon as she’s gone, I’m back to brooding over the situation.

How did information on Devon’s family suddenly turn up when my father couldn’t find it before? It’s almost like it landed right in my fucking lap and it’s been a nagging itch at the back of my mind, something just out of reach.

My phone rings, jolting me from my thoughts. It’s Kaius and my gut starts to churn with unease.

“Mikhail, got some news about Gabriette’s old man. He was in Berlin, but it wasn’t a fucking vacation. Someone caught him talking to a Camorrista head and the conversation seemed intense,” he says. “Also, my contact informed me that although the hit on you originated in St Petersburg, it was not from any of the heads there since they don’t want problems with your family. Someone from Berlin took the hit; someone not connected to Camorra. Got a name for you.”

I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “Berlin again? What’s the name, Kaius?”

He gives me Devon’s family’s name, and I frown. “That’s the same fucking name we’re looking into. You’re sure?”

“Yeah, but I’ll dig deeper. And there’s more,” Kaius adds, a hint of tension in his voice. “The story about Dasha’s brother being found dead? Bullshit. The boy was never found. Looks like Anatoly might’ve been feeding you a line.”

I curse under my breath. “That fucker, I knew it. If he’s behind this...” I trail off, then I sigh. “What’s the connection between Berlin and fucking St Petersburg is what I’d like to know.”

The hit on me originated in St Petersburg and someone from Berlin took it, although the Camorrista there do not want bad blood with me. Sounds like a rogue assassin, not mafia related. What the fuck is going on over there?

Kaius chuckles grimly. “Wouldn’t put it past Anatoly to be shady. I’ll keep my ears open, see what else I can find out; something’s not adding up,” Kaius agrees. “Will let you know what I find.”

After the call, I feel a tad better. We seem to be moving in the right direction, gathering pieces of this convoluted puzzle. But the doubt, the uneasy feeling, still lingers.

I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples. We’re close to something, I can feel it. The answers are there, just beyond our grasp. But one thing is clear – we’re playing a dangerous game, and in this game, the stakes couldn’t be higher.

Chapter 39

Gabriette

Training with Alexei is always intense, but today it feels even more so. Each move, each strike he lands, is a lesson in itself. I’m trying to keep up, to anticipate his next move, but he’s always one step ahead.

His strikes are precise and calculated, making me work hard to keep up.

“Come on, Gabriette, faster!” he barks as I narrowly dodge a sweeping kick. “You need to be quicker than that.”

I grit my teeth, feeling the strain in my muscles as I counter with a jab that barely grazes him. “I’m trying, Alexei,” I pant, trying to catch my breath.

He smirks, bouncing lightly on his feet, ready for the next round. “Trying isn’t good enough. You need to be doing and keep your guard up,” he barks. “Focus, Gabriette. Anticipate, don’t react.”

I nod, panting and shifting my stance as I prepare for his next attack. “I got it. Just need to... keep up with you,” I reply between breaths.

He smirks slightly, not slowing his pace. “That’s the point. If you can keep up with me, you can handle most of what comes your way.”

We engage in another intense round of sparring. I’m learning to read his movements better, anticipating rather than just reacting. It’s exhausting but exhilarating.

But he’s quick, landing a sharp jab to my ribs that makes me cry out. He doesn’t relent, and neither do I. The pain is a reminder to be quicker, smarter.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” I say through gritted teeth, trying to mask the pain.

“That was a love tap, Gabriette. Don’t get cocky,” he retorts, circling me like a predator.

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