Page 63 of Paid for By the Bratva

"Be careful, Brother," Nikolai warns before hanging up the phone.

I glance back at the bedroom, not wanting to wake Lara. She doesn't need to know about this, at least not until it's resolved. I gather my things and leave the house, summoning my bratva force.

As we leave the house in a convoy, my thoughts swarm with worry and determination. I have to protect Lara's brothers—not just because they're family, but because I love her. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep her happy and safe.

"Let's move," I order my men, the urgency in my voice unmistakable. "We don't have much time."

Together, we race toward the warehouse, each second ticking away like a countdown to disaster.

I dial Fedor's number as we speed through the dark streets, my heart pounding in my chest. The phone rings once, twice, before he finally answers.

"Dima? What's going on?"

"Fedor, I need your help," I say urgently. "Lara's brothers are in trouble, and we need to get to them as soon as possible."

"Of course. Where are they?"

"An old warehouse on the outskirts of town. Nikolai says they've stumbled upon some rivals. I’m sending you the location."

"Understood. I'll meet you there."

“Bring back-up,” I tell him.

***

We arrive at the first location on our list, an abandoned warehouse the Solntsevskaya often use to conduct their business. I motion at my driver to kill the engine. The convoy follows suit.

Fedor arrives at the warehouse moments after we do, his eyes filled with determination as he looks at me from his car. We exchange a quick nod before he jumps out and joins me in my vehicle.

Together, we watch the scene before us.

After a few minutes, I spot a flicker of movement near one of the entrances. "There," I say, pointing.

"Alright," I say, my voice low and steady. "We need to sneak in undetected. Any ideas?"

"Let's circle around the back," Fedor suggests. "There's likely to be less security there. We can take out any guards we come across and make our way inside."

"Good thinking," I reply, impressed by his quick tactical assessment. I instruct all our men to take their positions to the east, north, and south. We go in from the west.

"Let's move," I tell my brother.

Fedor and I slip from the shadows, gliding across the broken pavement toward the warehouse. We come across two guards engrossed in conversation, cigarettes glowing in the dark as they gesture lazily with their free hands.

Amateurs. This will be over quickly.

I slide up behind the guard on the left, clamping one hand over his mouth while pressing my gun into his side. He stiffens in alarm, but I hold him fast. "Not a sound," I growl, "or this bullet will be the last thing you hear."

Fedor has already subdued the other guard in a similar fashion. He looks at me for the signal, and I nod.

Two muffled cries ring out, accompanied by two thumps as the guards crumple lifeless to the ground from the veins we pressed to make them dead to the world for just a while. Our men behind us drag the bodies away to tie them up and keep them subdued while Fedor and I keep moving forward.

Fedor tries the door. It’s locked.

“We can’t risk it,” I whisper. “Someone can hear us trying to break in.”

The warehouse looms before us like a fortress. Fedor motions at me, and we run to take cover behind a stack of crates near the entrance, our eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger. Our hearts pound in unison, adrenaline coursing through our veins as we prepare to face our enemies.

"See anything?" Fedor whispers, his voice barely audible.

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