Page 109 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

“When?” His voice is cold. Controlled. “Both families? Are they—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Just grinds his jaw and says, “I’m on my way.”

My heart spikes. “What happened?”

He grabs my arm and starts steering me through the crowd. Fast. Focused.

“Nikolai’s house was hit. So was Igor’s.” His tone leaves no room for confusion. “You’re staying here. Don’t argue.”

“Vasiliy, wait?—”

But he doesn’t. He all but shoves me into his office, slamming the door behind me. A second later, I hear the lock click.

“Vasiliy!” I lunge for the handle, but it’s no use.

Through the thick wood, his voice is muffled. Regretful. “Forgive me,lisichka. I can’t risk it.”

“Don’t you dare leave me in here!” I shout, pounding the door with both fists. “Vasiliy!”

Nothing.

Only the distant echo of his footsteps disappearing into chaos.

I whirl around, heart hammering. His scent lingers—leather, spice, a hint of gun oil. The desk is littered with security briefings, surveillance photos of unfamiliar faces. Intel he never showed me. He knew. He knew this was coming.

This is what they wanted. Divide and conquer.

And now I’m locked in this room. Trapped and helpless to stop whatever comes next.

Chapter 33

Breaking Through

Galina

The bobby pin quivers between my fingers as I work the lock on Vasiliy’s office door. I’ve just about reached my limit. The constant surveillance, the way everyone tiptoes around me as if I’m fragile porcelain—it’s suffocating. Even the opulence of the space feels more like a gilded cage than a sanctuary.

My hands tremble as I manipulate the pin, summoning muscle memory from childhood escapades of lockpicking. The metal scrapes softly against the mechanism, each tiny sound amplified in the stillness. I pause, holding my breath, but no one comes rushing in. The guards are stationed at the club’s entrances, not anticipating an escape attempt from their boss’s pregnant girlfriend.

Girlfriend. The word tastes bitter. What am I to him, truly? A possession? A duty? The mother of his child, certainly, but also a prisoner “for my own protection.” The familiar surge of anger steadies my hands as I return to the lock.

Just as I feel the tumblers beginning to align, voices in the hallway freeze me in place. One belongs to Jaromir—I’d recognize that gravelly baritone anywhere. But there’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone. He’s been off for days—too formal,too quiet. I assumed it was tension with Vasiliy, maybe pressure from above. But now I wonder...was he always planning something?

“We need to move everything from the basement before they arrive,” he says, his voice low but clear through the thick door. “Yakov was very specific about the timing.”

I draw back from the door, my heart pounding. Yakov? As in Yakov Gagarin? The man who’s been buying up property around the club, the one who threatened me? The very person who has every reason to despise both the Volkovs and the Sokolovs?

“What about the girl?” another voice asks—one of the newer guards, I think. “Boss’ll notice if anything happens to her.”

Jaromir’s laugh is cold, devoid of humor. “Volkov’s too blinded by his cock to see what’s right in front of him. Besides, by the time he realizes what’s happening, it’ll be too late.”

A chill runs down my spine. Vasiliy’s head of security—the man he trusts implicitly—is conspiring with the enemy. How long has this betrayal been unfolding? How much has he divulged?

“Vladimir won’t like this,” the guard comments. “He wants the club intact. Family legacy and all that.”

“Vladimir’s a fool if he thinks Yakov will let any part of this place remain standing,” Jaromir sneers. “This isn’t about reclaiming territory anymore. It’s about taking them for Ana.”

Ana. The name slices through me. The woman whose death ignited this vendetta.

“You shouldn’t let emotion cloud your judgment,” the guard cautions.

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