Page 119 of Dangerous Beginnings

The men seated around the table don’t dare speak unless Iask them to. There’s an unspoken rule in this room: silence is strength, and only the strong get to hold the power. Dominik stands near the door, arms crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders a silhouette against the dim light. He’s always a wall of solid muscle, his tattoos peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt. His jaw is set in that familiar stone expression—the one that says he’ll follow me to hell and back if I ask him to. His eyes flicker occasionally to the door, but he remains the silent guardian, watching for threats that might slip past us.

Kirill, the one closest to the monitors, wears the same cold demeanor as everyone else. His face is lined with age and hard living, a mess of scars along his neck, and his hands are calloused from years of handling firearms. His fingers tremble slightly as he works the keyboard, a man who knows his place and is wise enough not to overstep. But there’s something about him tonight. A nervous energy in the way he avoids looking directly at me, as if I’ll see through his facade and know exactly what he’s hiding.

“Status,” I growl, my voice cutting through the tension in the room. My eyes narrow as I watch Kirill’s fingers move over the keys.

“Safehouse one is clear, no signs of activity,” he says, the words clipped, as though he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. “But the secondary location—there were signs. Lights on, a drawer left open. It could be him, or—” He trails off, the hesitation clear in his voice.

“Or what?” I snap, taking a step toward him.

Kirill swallows hard, his gaze flickering up to meet mine. “Or it could be someone else…we don’t know for sure yet.”

I let the silence linger for a beat too long. The men in the room feel it, that thick tension that precedes violence, before I speak again, my voice low, dangerous. “Who the fuck else could it be? Petrov’s territory is under my watch. Who would be able to slippast that?”

I glance at him now, my eyes briefly meeting his unreadable gaze. He stands, still as stone, no words coming from him, only a sharp, silent agreement that this is as much his problem as it is mine.

I turn back to Kirill, the fire in my gaze a warning. “No one has seen or heard from him in weeks and there are holes left behind wide enough to drive a fucking truck through. And you think this could be someone else?” I step closer, my boots scraping against the floor, each movement slow and deliberate.

“Someone is fucking with the underworld.”

Kirill nods quickly, his mouth working to form words but failing to speak. I turn away, my mind already calculating the damage. Petrov, a man I once made deals with to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, has vanished. His disappearance is a crack in the foundation of everything I’ve worked for. No one in this business gets to cross me and live. No one.

I move to the map pinned to the wall, the threads and pins that outline my empire staring back at me like a puzzle waiting to be solved. I trace the red strings with my fingers, feeling the tension in my shoulders tighten as I think of the consequences.

Petrov’s absence will cost blood, more than I can afford to lose. His territories are vulnerable—left wide open—and if I don’t act quickly, the power vacuum will draw in sharks. People who think they can take from me, from what I’ve built.

And that’s where the real danger lies.

I rub my thumb over the red hair elastic wrapped tightly around my wrist. It’s a small thing, insignificant to anyone else who might see it, but to me, it’s a reminder. A tether. A promise I made to her.

I don’t look at it. I don’t need to. But I feel the weight of it. The red elastic is her—a symbol of the fragile line I walk between this life and the one I almost let her pull me into. The last thing Ineed in this moment is a weakness. And yet, when my gaze flicks down to the bracelet, I can’t help but think of her—her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at me when I thought I could keep everything in this world controlled.

It’s not just about keeping her safe anymore. It’s about keeping her away from this. Keeping her out of this world of blood and betrayal I’ve built, the darkness that lurks behind every deal, every handshake.

I look at the elastic again, my hand tightening around it, the reminder cutting deeper than I care to admit. She can’t be here when the storm hits. I won’t let her be.

I won’t fail to protect her.

“Focus the search on the backup location. Pull every camera feed within ten kilometers. I don’t care how long it takes,” I order, my voice steady now, the momentary flicker of weakness quickly buried under layers of cold resolve. “And I want updates every hour. I don’t want to hear ‘could’ve’ or ‘might’ve.’ I want facts. We need to find out what’s going on and who is involved.”

The men around the table nod, their expressions blank but understanding. They know this will get ugly. They know what happens when I am pushed too far.

I flick the cigarette from my hand and watch it burn out in the ashtray. It’s a moment of finality, a reminder of what happens to things that linger too long in my world. The rats will burn. Petrov will pay—if he is still alive. And when the smoke clears, the only thing left standing will be me and her.

The room falls quiet again, and I let the silence stretch as I think, plotting the next moves, considering every possible angle. My empire is at risk, and the cracks are widening.

“Get to work,” I mutter, my voice a low command, and the men scatter, their movements quick, purposeful.

Dominik remains where he is, still silent, still watching. His presence is like a dark cloud hanging over the room, not a wordneeding to be spoken for us both to know what comes next. After a while he turns too, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The silence deepens as the room empties. The hum of the monitors a faint, mocking chorus to my thoughts.

I stand at the table, my thoughts locked on the next move. But in the back of my mind, Isabella lingers. Her face, her innocence. I’ve dragged her into my world, and now I can’t let her go. Not when I’m standing on the edge of everything burning to the ground.

But I’ll make sure she’s safe. Even if it kills me. I’ll protect her from the consequences of what I’ve become. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her out of the ashes.

Chapter 65

The Silence Before the Storm

Isabella

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