Page 101 of Ruthless Desire

The drive to the meeting point is tense, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. I can't shake the image of Natalie – flushed and wanting, surrounded by screens showing my empire. Soon, I promise myself. Soon she'll accept her place by my side, and we'll rule this city together.

But first, I've got a rat to exterminate.

The warehouse looms ahead, a decrepit hulk on the edge of the district. I park a block away, checking my weapons one last time. Two guards flank the entrance, trying and failing to look inconspicuous.

I approach openly, hands in my pockets. No need for stealth – not when I'm about to rain hellfire on these fuckers.

"Gentlemen," I call out, voice dripping with false cheer. "Lovely day for a meeting, isn't it?"

The guards tense, hands moving to their weapons. But before they can draw, I've got my gun out. Two shots, quick and silent thanks to the suppressor. They drop like stones.

I step over their bodies, kicking open the rusted door. The warehouse is dim, dust motes dancing in shafts of sunlight. And there, in the center of the cavernous space, stand Sergei and Nazarov.

"Dante," Sergei says, his voice carefully neutral. "We weren't expecting you so soon."

I smile, all teeth and no warmth. "Clearly. Otherwise, you might have posted better guards."

Nazarov's hand twitches towards his waistband, but Sergei stops him with a look. Smart man. For now.

"Let's cut the bullshit," I say, stalking closer. "You two thought you could team up against me? Take what's mine? I'm almost insulted by how stupid that plan is."

Sergei sighs, looking for all the world like a disappointed father. "It didn't have to come to this, Dante. If you'd just given up the girl-"

Red clouds my vision. In an instant, I've got my gun pressed to Sergei's forehead.

"Her name," I snarl, "is Natalie. And she is MINE."

Nazarov makes his move then, drawing his weapon. But I'm faster. I spin, using Sergei as a shield, and put a bullet between Nazarov's eyes.

He drops like a puppet with cut strings, a look of dumb surprise frozen on his face.

Sergei tenses in my grip, but doesn't struggle. Smart man.

"Now then," I say, pressing the still-hot barrel against his temple. "Let's talk about loyalty, old friend."

"Dante, please," Sergei starts, but I cut him off with a harsh laugh.

"Please? You dare ask me for mercy after what you've done? After you threatened everything I've built?"

I force him to his knees, towering over him. In this moment, I am vengeance incarnate. I am the monster they always feared I'd become.

"I trusted you," I hiss, finger tightening on the trigger. "I let you into my inner circle. And this is how you repay me?"

Sergei looks up at me, fear finally cracking his composure. "It was just business," he pleads. "Nothing personal. We can still work this out-"

The gunshot echoes through the warehouse. Sergei slumps forward, a neat hole in his forehead leaking crimson onto the dusty floor.

"It's always personal," I mutter, tucking my gun away.

I survey the scene, mind already racing with clean-up plans. Two bodies, two loose ends tied up neat and tidy. But it's not enough. It'll never be enough until I've crushed anyone who dares to challenge me.

As I head back to my car, I pull out my phone. A quick text to Enzo: It's done. Prepare for war.

His response is immediate: Understood. But boss... we've got a situation. The raven's not feeling well.

My brow furrows, a mix of concern and irritation flooding through me. Natalie. My Natalie, sick? It doesn't compute. She was fine when I left her, flushed and feisty from our encounter.

I peel out of the parking lot, tires squealing. My mind races with possibilities. Is it just a cold? Food poisoning? Or something more sinister? The thought of someone poisoning her, hurting what's mine, makes my blood boil.

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