Page 69 of Dark Obsession

“Oh, you mean Grigori?” I let out a dramatic sigh. “Bleeding out in the interrogation room. Your friends did a real number on him.”

They mutter to each other in Spanish, and I can see they’re undecided as to what to do with me. Maybe they think they’ve won or maybe they’re discussing whether or not to drag me backto Molina as a prize.

Too bad for them because their hesitation allows Grigori to step out unnoticed from the shadows.

He’s a blur of movement, faster than they can react. He lunges at the closest one, twisting the gun out of his hands and jamming it into his gut, pulling the trigger. The guy collapses with a gurgled gasp, and the other two whip around, faces white with shock.

Before they can even raise their weapons, Grigori’s on them. One goes down with a swift kick, the other hits the floor from a punch so brutal it echoes down the hall.

Grigori straightens, wipes a smear of blood off his knuckles, then gives me a cocky grin. "See? That wasn’t so hard.”

He hands me a sleek pistol, then grabs a machine gun for himself. “One of these days, you’ll have to trust me with one of those,” I say, tilting my head at the weapon in his hands.

We climb a narrow staircase, emerging onto a balcony that overlooks the entire warehouse floor. The chaos unfolds before us like a scene from a movie—dozens of Ivanov and Molina soldiers are battling below, hurling themselves behind crates and shelves as they exchange fire.

Bullets whiz past, hitting metal and ricocheting with terrifying thuds. Through one of the dusty windows, I spot a small fleet of Ivanov vehicles surrounding the place, soldiers pouring out and joining the fray, Yuri among them.

My eyes scan the crowd below, and relief floods through me when I catch sight of Lev and Luk, both of them fully armed and commanding the Ivanov army. But there’s no sign of Alexei, and I feel a stab of worry.

Grigori places a firm hand on my arm, pulling my attention back.

“Focus. We need to find Sanchez and Molina. They’re the only ones who matter right now.”

I nod, swallowing back my fear, and we make our way down the stairs, keeping close to the wall. About halfway down, we stop dead as an unwelcome familiar face appears at the bottom.

It’s Claudio Sanchez flanked by a small group of his goons. He stands in front of us with a cocky, twisted grin plastered across his face.

“Shit,” I mutter, my fingers tightening around the pistol.

Grigori tenses beside me, eyes narrowing as he assesses the situation. Sanchez’s grin only widens as he looks us over, clearly delighted at his good fortune. He and his men raise their guns, his face lighting up in sick delight as he takes us in.

“Well, well, well,” he sneers, voice dripping with satisfaction. “I was half-expecting you two to crawl off like the cowards you are, tails tucked between your legs. Looks like the beauty and her beast actually stayed to fight.”

Grigori steps forward, saying, “Ivanovs look out for their own.”

Sanchez barks a laugh, waving his gun in the air.

“How sweet,” he mocks. “And convenient. Saves me the trouble of picking you off one by one. I’ll kill you right here together.” He raises his pistol, eyes dark and deadly. “As fun as it was to watch you squirm, I’m done playing games.”

He gives a sharp command in Spanish, and his men raise their guns, cold and focused. Sanchez is about to finish what he started. My heart pounds, and I grip my pistol tight, knowing Ihave to try, even if it means—

Pop.

A shot rings out, piercing the tense silence. For a split second, no one moves. Then, Sanchez’s face contorts with confusion. He raises a hand to his chest as blood pours between his fingers. His mouth opens, a strangled sound escaping as he staggers back, his expression one of pure disbelief.

He drops to his knees, his pistol slipping from his hand, clattering uselessly to the ground. His men stare, equally stunned, as their boss crumples forward, his blood pooling beneath him on the concrete floor.

Grigori and I exchange a look, both of us equally bewildered.

What the hell just happened?

Relief floods through me as I spot Alexei and his men approaching, their guns raised, faces fierce and focused. I almost collapse with gratitude. Alexei meets my gaze and gives a quick nod before issuing a command in Russian.

In a smooth, controlled movement, his squad opens fire, cutting down the rest of the shocked cartel guards. Bullets slice through the air, the remaining men barely getting a chance to react before crumpling to the floor.

As the last of them falls, Alexei and his men rush over, his eyes searching my face with an intensity I haven’t seen before. Without a word, he pulls me into a fierce hug, holding me close.

“Damn it, Elena,” he mutters into my hair, voice thick with emotion. “I was so goddamn worried about you. About both of you.”

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