Page 31 of Perfect Stalker

“It’s Morozov.” He unconsciously moves his hand to the gun at his hip. “Our guy inside his operation just made contact. Alexei’s mobilizing his men—they’re planning to hit the media company. Intel suggests within the next few hours.”

Ice fills my veins. “Son of a bitch. He’s actually going to do it.” He’ll risk a public confrontation and involving the authorities to get to me because I’m inaccessible elsewhere? Alexei always had more balls than brains. That bastard also never knows when to quit. “How reliable is the intel?”

“Very. Multiple sources confirmed it.”

I nod, considering contingencies. “Lock down the building. Get everyone to safety.”

He’s already moving. “On it.”

As he leaves, my thoughts turn to Jenny. Where is she? Is she safe? I left her to sleep in, trusting Andre and Daniil to deliver her to the office at the usual time, but I wish now I’d brought her with me and had her at my side the entire time. Why did I let her office be so far down the hall from mine? She deserves a corner view, but it was a lapse…

The familiar protective instinct surges through me, stronger than ever as chaos erupts in the corridors. Raised voices and the distant sound of shattering glass reach my ears. I grab my phone, dialing Jenny’s number. No answer.

“Dammit,” I mutter, pocketing the device and striding out of my office.

The hallways are a mess of panicked employees and security personnel trying to maintain order. I push through the crowd, scanning for any sign of Jenny.

“Ivan,” Marcus calls out, waving an arm at me. “We’ve got reports of armed men on the lower floors.”

I curse under my breath. “How many?”

“At least a dozen. Maybe more.”

“Keep them contained. I need to find Jenny.”

He nods. “Be careful.”

I make my way through the building on alert. The sound of gunfire echoes from somewhere below, and I quicken my pace.Where are you, Jenny?

As I round a corner, I spot her. She’s backed against a wall, confusion and fear on her face. Relief floods through me, quickly followed by a surge of protectiveness.

Without hesitation, I close the distance between us. Jenny’s eyes widen as she sees me approach. “Ivan? What’s going?—”

I don’t give her time to finish. In one swift motion, I sweep her into my arms. She lets out a startled gasp but instinctively wraps her arms around my neck.

“Hold on,” I say, already moving toward the nearest exit.

She clings to me while I navigate through the chaos. The sound of gunfire grows closer, and she tenses against me. “Ivan, what’s happening?” she asks, trembling.

“I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get out of here.” We reach the parking garage, and I set Jenny down next to my Aston Martin. As I unlock the door, a bullet whizzes past, embedding itself in the concrete pillar beside us.

“Get in,” I shout, pushing Jenny into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel.

The engine roars to life, and I peel out of the garage, tires squealing. I catch a glimpse of armed men emerging from the stairwell in the rear-view mirror.

Jenny grips the dashboard, looking pale. “Who are those people? Why are they shooting at us?”

I weave through traffic, putting as much distance between us and the attackers as possible. “It’s Alexei Morozov. He’s made his move.”

“Alexei? The man you told me about?” Her voice is laced with disbelief and fear.

I nod grimly. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”

“And what’s that?”

Our eyes meet for a brief moment. “Me. Broken or dead. He’d probably prefer both.”

Jenny falls silent, processing this information. I can see the questions forming in her eyes, but now isn’t the time for a full explanation.

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