Page 80 of Ruthless Daddies

Dmitri dives behind the nearest stack of crates, his gun already in his hand. Nikolai follows, crouching low as he pulls his own weapon. I draw my gun, the cold metal familiar in my grip, and scan the area for movement.

More shots ring out, rapid and chaotic. Shouts follow, mixed with the heavy thud of boots against the concrete.

“East entrance,” Dmitri says, his voice clipped as he peers around the edge of a crate. “They’re coming from the east.”

“How many?” I ask, my heart pounding.

“Too many,” Nikolai mutters, his jaw tight.

A deafening crash reverberates through the warehouse as something heavy slams against the metal doors. Sparks fly as the hinges strain under the impact.

“We’re sitting ducks in here,” Dmitri growls. “We need to move.”

“Not until we know how many there are,” I say firmly, my mind racing. “And who sent them.”

“Who do you think?” Nikolai snaps, his voice low but sharp. “Vadim is playing his hand.”

Another round of gunfire erupts, and this time, it’s closer. Too close. A bullet zips past my head, embedding itself in the wall behind me.

“We can’t keep running!” I bark, glancing at Dmitri and Nikolai as we duck behind a stack of crates. “We hold them here!”

Dmitri wipes the sweat from his brow, his gun already raised. “About time,” he mutters. “I was starting to get bored.”

Nikolai grins faintly, though his expression is tense. “They’re expecting us to scatter. Let’s give them a surprise instead.”

I peer around the corner of the crates, spotting movement near the entrance of the building. At least a dozen men, armed and determined, moving with calculated precision. Vadim’s men. No doubt about it.

“Positions,” I command, my voice low but firm.

Dmitri moves to higher ground, climbing a stack of metal beams to get a better vantage point. Nikolai stays with me, his eyes sharp as he takes aim at the advancing figures.

The first man steps into the open, his weapon raised. Without hesitation, I fire, the shot echoing through the space as he crumples to the ground.

“Here we go,” Nikolai mutters, opening fire on another figure.

The room explodes into chaos. Bullets ricochet off metal surfaces, sparks flying as the attackers press forward. Dmitri picks them off from above, his aim deadly accurate, while Nikolai and I hold the line below.

“They’re flanking!” Dmitri shouts, his voice cutting through the noise.

I glance to the side, spotting a group of men moving along the far wall. “Cover me!” I yell, breaking into a sprint.

Nikolai lays down suppressive fire as I move, my heart pounding as I reach the far wall. One of the attackers rounds the corner, and I take him down with a quick shot to the chest.

Another man lunges at me, his knife glinting in the dim light. I sidestep his attack, slamming my elbow into his face before finishing him off with a shot to the head.

“Still breathing over there?” Dmitri calls out, his tone almost casual despite the chaos.

“Focus, Dmitri!” I snap, ducking behind cover as a spray of bullets tears through the crates around me.

“Just making sure you’re not slacking,” he retorts, taking out another target with a well-placed shot.

I can hear Nikolai muttering curses under his breath as he reloads, the tension in his voice palpable. “There’s too many of them,” he says, firing off another round. “We need to end this now.”

I glance around, my mind racing. The warehouse is a maze, but we know it better than they do. If we can force them into a bottleneck, we might stand a chance.

“There!” I shout, pointing to a narrow passageway leading to one of the storage areas. “Draw them in!”

Dmitri and Nikolai nod, moving into position as I fire a few shots to keep the attackers at bay. The plan works—slowly but surely, the men are funneled into the passageway, their movements restricted by the tight space.

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