Page 59 of Twisted Obsession
The sudden crack of a gunshot shattered the tense silence.
“Fuck! Why did you shoot me?” Andrei’s voice was a mixture of agony and disbelief.
“Think of it as a reminder. If you ever double-cross me, I will kill you.”Ivan’s cold, menacing tone sent a shiver down my spine.
I ended the recording and tossed Andrei’s cell phone onto the cold metal table with a clatter. All this time, I had believed Andrei was the one who had killed my father, but the grim truth was that it had been Ivan.
I walked up to Andrei, looking down at him with a mix of anger and desperation. “How did Ivan get into the fundraiser?”
“Through me,” he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “He said if I gave him access to Lara, he would ensure I stayed under the radar. He promised he would no longer demand payment to keep my secret. I wanted to end his life and his threats once and for all. He knew Lara would be there. I was too late.”
Ivan had been blackmailing Andrei, holding him under his thumb all this time.
“Do you know where Ivan might have taken Lara?” I asked, even though fury boiled within me for him allowing that psychopath near Lara. Despite everything, Andrei was my only hope of finding her. I prayed he loved her enough to risk his own life to save her.
“I think I might,” he replied with a hint of hope. “Now, can you please release me?”
~***~
I couldn’t believe my worst enemies were sitting in my study, plotting a strategy to save the woman I loved.I loved her. Lara was my heart, my soul. I truly loved her with every fiber of my being.
It turned out that Andrei knew Ivan’s mansion better than anyone else. If Ivan held Lara captive, Andrei was certain he would have her locked away in one of the impenetrable rooms beneath the sprawling estate. Listening to Andrei recount the horrors my uncle had committed over the years—the countless women he had violated and tortured in his twisted quest to produce an heir—chilled me to the bone. And now, he intended to subject Lara to the same fate.
I had always puzzled over why Ivan never attended the inauguration. Now the truth was clear as day: my father despised him, and my mother lived in fear of him.
The four of us—along with Stepan, Yuri, Boris, and a dozen of my most trusted men—left the safety of the mansion. Our destination was Ivan’s fortress, hidden away in the rugged, untamed terrain of the Catskill Mountains.
Our convoy consisted of four bulletproof black SUVs, each brimming with skilled operatives and formidable firepower, advancing steadily toward the gates that safeguarded his mansion. Stepan’s keen eyes scanned the surrounding area, spotting two guards stationed at the entrance—an obstacle that needed swift elimination. No problem for us.
As I surveyed the scene, a sense of calm washed over me, knowing the Red Knights were by my side. I had to involve them, yet I couldn’t afford the risk of their exposure. Even with the combined expertise in shooting and knife combat that Stepan and I possessed, I wasn’t willing to gamble with the slightest chance of failure. I assured them they would remain unseen until their intervention was utterly essential.
In a seamless, coordinated maneuver, before the guards could even register our presence, Stepan delivered a precise suppressor shot to the head of the guard on the left. Simultaneously, I mirrored his action, taking out the guard on the right. Both fell to the ground with the grace of toppled dominoes, collapsing one after the other.
I scaled the wrought iron gate, its cold metal biting into my palms, and shoved the dead guards’ lifeless bodies aside, clearing the doorway to the dimly lit security booth. With a swift motion, I pushed open the gate, its hinges creaking ominously in the still night air.
We spread out like shadows across the grounds, each of us targeting any remaining guards—three stationed on the upper balcony and six patrolling the manicured lawn below. We swiftly killed them, their bodies falling silently, while back at my mansion, Gisela busily looped Ivan’s security cameras, her fingers dancing over the keyboard with practiced precision.
The mansion loomed ahead, its doors all securely locked and linked to an intricate, hi-tech security system—one so complex that even Gisela, with her unmatched skills, couldn’t crack it. But our focus wasn’t on doors; windows offered another way in. Not all security systems were foolproof, and I mentally sent thanks to Gisela’s keen eye. She had pinpointed a vulnerable entry on the upper floor through a narrow bathroomwindow. Had Stepan and I been any larger, our mission might have ended then and there.
“Remind me to kill Gisela when we get back to the mansion,” Stepan muttered, squeezing his bulky frame through the window with a grunt.
I shot him a look that could melt steel, silently telling him to focus as I shifted my gaze to the bedroom visible through the bathroom door.
We advanced cautiously, guns raised, as our eyes swept the room. It was vacant, just a guest bedroom with untouched linens and a faint scent of lavender. Stepan eased the door open, and the sudden burst of gunfire from below shattered the stillness.
“Fuck,” I hissed, frustration boiling within me. Catching Ivan by surprise would have been ideal.
Descending to the bottom floor, the scene was grim. Two of our men lay on the ground, lifeless, while Andrei clutched his arm, blood oozing between his fingers from a fresh wound.
“Andrei, where is Ivan keeping Lara?” My voice was edged with urgency, my concern solely for Lara, not his injury.
“There’s a secret passage in the basement leading to an underground tunnel. It’s only accessible with a code,” he managed, gritting his teeth against the pain.
“What’s the code?”
“I don’t know,” he groaned, struggling to speak as he spat through clenched teeth. “It is a six-digit code.”
“Fuck. It could be anything.”
