Page 151 of Fallen Empire
It was the weight that hit a split second later. The truth I’d been trying not to choke on since the second Koslov took her.
The moment her smile faltered when she realized a man wasn’t just being kind and holding the door open, I realized the mistake I’d made.
I should’ve warned her more.
Should’ve told her every damn thing I knew about the kind of man we were up against, even if it would’ve kept her up at night.
I didn’t give her enough details. Never even showed her his fucking photo.
What the fuckdid I do? I’d seduced her. Took advantage of her when she was at her lowest. Fulfilled my needs, and hers, and told myself it was to take her mind off the world closing in.
It had worked. Briefly.
But when the haze cleared, nothing had changed. The danger was still there, and I’d left her exposed to it.
Worse, I’d let her walk right into the hands of a man I didn’t even know by face. I’d been protecting her from a shadow, not the flesh-and-blood monster who’d been circling all along.
And now he had her.
Because I’d been selfish.
Because I hadn’t been good enough, fast enough, ruthless enough. And worse, because I’d underestimated him. A mistake I never made.
If Mills—the only woman I’d ever loved—was on the receiving end of that bullet, I swear to God I’d tear Koslov apartwith my bare hands. His death wouldn’t just be slow. It would be merciless. A front row seat to his favorite kind of hell.
We were a block away when—
One.
Two.
Three more shots split the air, stopping me for the briefest second. My gut twisted, but training forced the fear down where it belonged.
I dropped my sunglasses and flipped the thermal-vision lenses into place. The building’s front was a blind wall. Solid concrete, windows blacked out with grime and years of neglect. Through it, the thermal picked up nothing but cold surfaces.
We shifted, moving to the far side. Here, plywood panels and sheets of thick plastic flapped slightly in the draft, revealing sections of bare studs and unfinished walls. Through those gaps, heat signatures moved above us. Slow, deliberate shapes pacing a few floors up. Clean outlines, easy to track.
Nothing at ground level.
Which meant either it was clear, or they were waiting.
Our team fell into formation without a word, weapons ready, boots silent against the dusty concrete.
I’d already fired off a message to Jade, my emergency handler. If what we were walking into was what I thought, there’d be bodies left behind. And I needed someone on standby, just in case those bodies ended up being ours.
“You seeing what I’m seeing?” Jaxson’s voice came through the comm, tight and clipped.
I swept the building again through the thermal overlay. “One seated, heat spiking in the thigh and head. Looks injured but alive. Another body crouched low, arm extended… reads like a pistol to someone’s head.”
“No,” Jaxson said. “I mean the ones coming down the stairs.”
My focus shifted. My eyes adjusted. And then I saw them. Six bright red silhouettes charging down the stairwell.
“Third and fourth floor,” Reaper’s voice cut in. “Ten more inbound.”
My head tilted up instinctively. Sure enough, the upper levels glowed with heat signatures—sixteen in total, waiting. On standby.
Sixteen against the three of us, but the odds have been worse.
