Page 84 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

A flicker of movement catches my attention. I raise my hand, signaling Dmitri to stop. We press ourselves against the wall, blending into the darkness. Two of Matvey’s men round the corner, their voices low and tense.

“We should’ve just killed her already,” one grumbles.

“The boss wants to draw this out,” says the other. “Make Rostova suffer.”

I grit my teeth at their words. They have no idea how much they’ll suffer for laying a hand on Claire.

I lock gazes with Dmitri. We work well enough together to not need words to form a plan. As the men draw closer, we spring into action. I lunge forward, driving my fist into the first man’s solar plexus. He doubles over, gasping for air. Dmitri tackles the second, slamming him against the wall with a dull thud.

The first man recovers quickly, swinging wildly at my head. I duck under his punch, countering with a sharp uppercut that snaps his head back. He stumbles, dazed but not down. I press my advantage, unleashing a flurry of strikes to his face and body. He crumples to the ground, unconscious.

Dmitri has his opponent in a chokehold, and the man’s face is turning an alarming shade of purple. “Easy,” I warn. “We needinformation.” He loosens his grip slightly, allowing the man to draw in a ragged breath.

I crouch down, meeting the terrified gaze of our captive. “Where is she?” I ask, practically growling the words.

The man’s gaze darts between Dmitri and me, weighing his options. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He wheezes between words.

I grip his throat. “Wrong answer. Where is Claire?”

“Cell block C, but you’ll never reach her. Matvey’s got the place locked down tight.”

A cold smile spreads across my face. “We’ll see about that.”

I nod to Dmitri, who knocks the man unconscious with a swift blow. We drag both bodies into an empty cell and lock them in after stripping the key ring from them.

“Cell block C,” I mutter, pulling out the crude map Yuri had managed to piece together while clasping the keys in my hand, sure we’ll need them. “This way.”

We move deeper into the warren of corridors. The oppressive darkness seems to close in around us, making every shadow a potential threat. As we approach a junction, the sound of hushed voices reaches us.

I hold up my hand, signaling Dmitri to stop. We press ourselves against the wall, listening intently. Three distinct voices, discussing patrol rotations. I peek around the corner, confirming my count. Three of Matvey’s men, and all are heavily armed.

I turn to Dmitri, speaking in a low whisper. “I’ll take the two on the left. You get the one on the right. On my signal.”

Dmitri nods, his face revealing no emotions. I count down silently, ticking off the seconds visibly with my fingers. Three... two... one...

We burst around the corner, catching the men off guard. I launch myself at the nearest target, driving my shoulder into his midsection. We crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs as his gun clatters across the floor, out of reach.

The second man fumbles for his weapon, but I’m faster. My fist connects with his jaw, sending him reeling. I follow up with a vicious knee to his stomach, doubling him over.

A gunshot rings out, deafeningly loud in the confined space despite a muffler. I whirl around to see Dmitri grappling with the third man, the gun between them smoking. For a heart-stopping moment, I fear the worst before the man slumps to the ground, a crimson stain spreading across his chest.

Dmitri looks up, trickling blood from a cut on his cheek. “I’m fine.”

I nod, turning my attention back to the two men I’d taken down. They’re both struggling to their feet, dazed but not out of the fight. I don’t give them a chance to recover.

I drive my elbow into the first man’s temple, sending him crashing back to the ground. The second manages to land a glancing blow to my ribs, but I barely feel it through the surge of adrenaline. I grab his arm, twisting it behind his back until I hear a sickening pop. He screams in agony, dropping to his knees.

“Where is she?” I demand, my voice a low growl.

The man whimpers, cradling his dislocated shoulder. “End of the block, but there’s at least a dozen more men between you and her. You’ll never make it, Rostova.”

I smile coldly. “Good. I was hoping for a challenge.”

A quick blow to the back of his head silences him. I turn to Dmitri, who’s zip-tying the unconscious men. “You okay to continue?”

He nods, wiping blood from his cheek. “It’s just a scratch. Let’s find Claire.”

We move deeper into Cell Block C, our progress slowed by the need for stealth. Every corner and shadowy alcove could hide an enemy. The Makarov PM presses against my back, but I resist the urge to draw it. Gunfire would bring the entire complex down on our heads, and I don’t have a muffler for my gun like Dmitri had during his exchange with Petrov’s man.

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