Page 1 of Shadows of Obsession

Chapter 1

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Roman

18 years ago

The smell of wet earth invades my nostrils. I look down at my boots, their color unrecognizable from all the mud covering them.

"Roman, you have two hours to catch them. Make sure I can hear their screams from the terrace."

My father’s voice makes me grip the dagger in my hand even tighter and Alexei Borisov is not a man you want to disobey. I could try to make him understand that we could simply shoot them, but that would only ensure Niko, my brother, gets a brutal beating. I could show them mercy, because I know exactly where to plunge the knife for a quick death. But I know he'll check the bodies personally, and if he sees that I hesitated to be exactly the monster he expects me to be, he might hurt my mother. Because it's not Maria Borisov's life that concerns me, but the life of my sister growing in her womb. Since my father is the definition of a masochist, he wouldn't hesitate to put her life in danger just to punish me for showing lack of initiative.

All I feel right now is absolute calm. Unlike other times, I know exactly what I need to do to avoid his punishments.

"Good luck, kid!" Zarik, one of my father's lieutenants, tells me.

Luck. Hmm, who needs luck when you have a Benchmade Claymore with a precision blade?

I step into the forest behind the house, looking for the first footprints. Although the rain is heavy and the ground is soft, their tracks are still visible. Three men entered this forest, and none will find the road behind it. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears, and somewhere in the distance an owl hoots. Although it's 5:00 p.m., the forest is shrouded in a layer of fog and darkness. My steps are heavy, and the rustling of leaves under my boots is loud enough to be heard. Because I want to be heard. I'm not the one being hunted.

After estimating that I've walked about four hundred yards into the forest, I stop. Here the forest is at its thickest, with oak branches hanging down almost to my height. At this point, if you're running like a madman through a forest, knowing you're about to be killed, this is where you’ll start to panic. The road isn't visible, and what they don't know is that, yes, there is a road. About twenty miles away. They have no chance of reaching it before I get to them.

Tilting my head back, I let my eyes fall shut. The rain has soaked through my hoodie, plastering it to my skin, but I savor these final moments of quiet. My fingers find one of my smaller blades, and I let muscle memory take over - three precise spins in my right hand before releasing it into the distant shadows. A sharp cry pierces the night, and I can almost picture Father on the terrace, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he puffs on his Cuban cigar.

I reach the target in seconds. He's a middle-aged man in an expensive gray suit, now huddled against a tree trunk. His hands shoot up in surrender while my blade stays buried in his thigh. Not exactly where I'd aimed, but considering the dense foliage, I'll take it.

“Please,” he whimpers. “I have a family...a son about your age. The debts, they just - ” I cut off his sob story with a swift kick to the ribs. Pulling rope from my waistband, I grab his shirt collar and slam him against the rough bark. Got to admire his spirit - he still tries to fight back as I bind him, but that knife in his leg keeps him incapacitated.

"We can negotiate, please." The words come out more like a whisper as tears run down his face. Or maybe they're raindrops. I have no idea.

Looking at my watch, I realize I have exactly eighteen minutes left with my friend here before I need to go after the other two, so I tear his shirt and jacket using the knife I just pulled from his thigh. A pool of blood quickly forms below him, which means I definitely hit an artery.Damn, I need to make him scream before he passes out.

My knife traces a deep line across each joint. I know from personal experience that it burns terribly when someone cuts you there, and the depth I've inflicted is enough to ensure the man has a maximum of five minutes left now. I stab the knife where I know his liver is, just to be sure. His screams are now resigned. His gaze starts to get foggy, so I need to wake him up a bit.

From one of my boots, I pull out a small, delicate knife, ideal for precise lines. This knife could cut through aluminum without struggle. When he feels the blade under his right eye, he flinches, causing the knife to pierce his eye.

"If you don't stay still, it's going to hurt even more," I tell him because it's true.

I drag the knife across his face in a diagonal line from eye to mouth, and that's when I know Alexei will be satisfied because the sound he makes is pure agony. I do the same thing under hisleft eye, and I hear him trying to whisper something as his head drops down.

“You'll burn in he—” His accusation dies with him as he takes his final breath. I wipe my bloodied hands on his shirt, leaving crimson streaks behind. He's not wrong - only a monster could look at this carnage and feel nothing. And here I am, feeling empty as a void.

But they sealed their fate the moment they stole from Alexei, the moment they betrayed his trust. Does my father deserve my loyalty? No. But when he's gone, it's this reputation - this fear of our name - that will keep Niko and baby Victoria safe.

I check my watch and let out a slow breath.One down. Two more to go.

Chapter 2

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Luna

18 years ago

The moment I step into the living room, I'm wrapped in the familiar scents of apple and cinnamon. It's November, and like clockwork, Mom's baking her famous apple and walnut pie - a tradition as reliable as the leaves falling outside. I curl up on the couch, watching Dad at the table, conversing softly with a stranger I've never seen before. Something's off - their faces are drawn tight, serious. Dad's usual warm smile is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a frown that looks foreign on his features. Minutes tick by before he hands the man a white envelope. What happens next catches me off guard - the stranger pulls Dad into an embrace, holding on like a drowning man to a lifeline.

When the stranger leaves, I ask Dad, "What was in that envelope?"

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