Chapter 15: Alexei

The air inside the warehouse is thick and stale. My fingers twitch against my leg as I scan the room, taking in every detail of the setup. We've been over it a thousand times, but it still feels like something could go wrong at any second.

I lean back against the wall, adjusting the collar of this ridiculous suit Katya insisted I wear. It's tight around my neck, and I feel like I'm suffocating. My fingers itch to rip the thing off, but I resist the urge.

The static crackles softly in my ear, followed by Katya's steady voice. "Sergei's on his way. Just two vans, like we expected. Our men are positioned where they're supposed to be. Stay sharp."

I glance at Irina, who stands a few feet away, her hand resting on the edge of the large crate in front of us. She meets my eyes and gives me a small nod.

I adjust the collar of my suit jacket again, feeling the fabric pinch against my neck. "This disguise is driving me crazy," I mutter under my breath, scratching my chin.

Irina catches the movement and smirks, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You don't look that bad, Alexei. Maybe a little too polished for someone like you, but still."

I glare at her, but there's no real heat behind it. "I look ridiculous."

She shrugs, her smirk widening. "You just need to own it. You could even pull off the ‘businessman gone rogue' look if you tried."

I'm about to retort, but Katya's voice cuts in through the earpiece. "Save the foreplay for after the job. You two are disgusting."

Irina's face immediately flushes, and I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face. Her eyes narrow, shooting me a look that's half embarrassed and half annoyed, but it only makes me chuckle. Before I can respond, Katya's voice floats back through the earpiece.

"Sergei just pulled up. He has ten men with him."

I roll my shoulders, shaking off the last bit of discomfort as I move toward the crate. Irina follows, her expression more serious now. She's focused, her eyes scanning the room as we wait.

"Everyone in place?" I ask quietly, tapping the earpiece again.

Katya's voice is calm and collected. "Everyone's where they should be. No sign of backup on Sergei's side—just the ten men with him in the vans. It looks like he's keeping it small, but stay alert. You know he's never completely predictable."

I nod to myself, glancing at Irina again.

"Here we go," I mutter, my heart rate picking up as the warehouse doors creak open. The sound of footsteps echoes in the space as Sergei and his men step into the room.

I don't move. Not yet. I stand tall, my arms loose at my sides, watching as Sergei makes his way toward me. His eyes sweep over the room, taking in the setup and crate and finally landing on me. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but there's no warmth in it.

"Yuri," he says, extending a hand as he steps closer. "It's good to finally meet you."

I clasp his hand firmly, my face neutral. "Likewise, Sergei."

Behind me, Irina is silent, standing by the crate, waiting for the signal. Sergei's eyes flicker to her for a brief moment, but he doesn't address her yet. His focus is on the deal.

"Let's see what you've got," he says, nodding toward the crate.

I give Irina a small nod, and she moves quickly, opening the crate to reveal the stacks of packages inside—the heroin. Sergei steps forward, his eyes gleaming as he examines the contents. He reaches into one of the packs, pulling out a small amount, rubbing it between his fingers before bringing it to his lips to taste.

He smirks, satisfied, and nods to his men.

The click of guns being drawn echoes in the warehouse, and Sergei's smirk widens into a full-blown grin.

"I have to admit," he says, chuckling darkly. "I'm impressed, Yuri. I told you not to bring anyone, and here you are—with just one skinny woman by your side."

My jaw clenches, but I don't flinch. Sergei's laugh fills the space, but there's nothing friendly about it. His men stand behind him, guns pointed directly at us.

Sergei steps closer, his grin widening as his eyes scan me from head to toe. "You know, Yuri," he says, voice dripping with condescension, "for a new businessman, you should learn not to go to deals like this without some backup." He looks around the empty warehouse, taking in Irina at my side with a smugness that makes my blood boil. "Then again," he adds with a snicker, "you probably won't have another kind of deal like this again."

"You're bold, Sergei," I say, leaning back a little, my hands still casually at my sides. "Bold for someone who doesn't hold a candle in the world of mafia families anymore. You might have been something once, but those days are long gone." I let the words sink in, watching his smirk falter slightly, though he quickly tries to cover it.

Sergei's smile tightens, but I don't stop there. "You see, I like to keep to my word. But how do you know," I say, lowering my voice, "that you're not outnumbered right now? How do you know there isn't a sniper waiting on the building across the street, with a red dot already fixed on your forehead?"

His face remains stiff, but I catch the flicker of doubt in his eyes. His gaze shifts for a moment, scanning the high windows of the warehouse, and just as he's about to say something, I watch as the tiniest red dot appears on his forehead.

Sergei's face pales, and he swears under his breath. His men, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor, glance around nervously. They're no longer as sure of themselves, their guns still drawn, but hesitation clear in their movements.

I take a slow, measured step forward. "Now, Sergei," I say, my voice calm and unbothered. "I'm not here to cause a ruckus. We had an agreement. You bring the money; you take the goods. Simple."

Sergei's eyes dart around the room, the pressure mounting as the sniper's red dot remains on his forehead. He's panicking; I can see it. His control of the situation and the bravado he walked in with are crumbling in real-time.

"But if you didn't bring any money," I continue, my tone sharpening, "you should fuck off before things get messy."

His lips curl into a snarl as his men shift uncomfortably, still waiting for his cue, their guns trembling slightly in their hands. I know they feel it, too—that creeping sense of vulnerability.

Sergei steps back, his face twisted in rage. "You think you can play games with me, Yuri?" he spits. "You think you can threaten me?"

"I'm not threatening you, Sergei," I say smoothly. "I'm simply stating facts. You don't have control here. You're outnumbered and outplayed." I glance toward the men behind him, letting the silence stretch between us. "So, why don't you do the smart thing and pay up?"

Sergei's fists clench at his sides, the veins in his neck bulging as he glares at me. His pride is wounded, and that's the most dangerous thing for a man like him. "You think I'm afraid of you? You think I'm going to hand over money just because you've got a sniper trained on me?"

I shrug, unfazed. "No, I think you're going to hand over the money because you don't have a choice. Because if you don't, the next red dot won't be on your forehead—it'll be on your men. One by one."

"You've got balls, Yuri. I'll give you that. But don't think for a second that I won't come after you once this is over. You and your skinny little girlfriend. The Broker won't let you go."

"Not if I give him this for free. You see, something you should know about him is that he likes people who give. The Broker is not one to settle for anything or anyone not delivering. Is that not what you're here to prove, you old ass?"

"Fuck you!"

At that moment, Katya's voice crackles through the earpiece. "Alexei, you've got more company. Sergei's reinforcements are coming. Four more cars, heavily armed."

I swear under my breath, my jaw clenching as the situation shifts.

"I'm sending the men in now."

Just as Sergei opens his mouth to gloat, the large side doors of the warehouse swing open, and both of our men flood into the room simultaneously.

No one knows who fired first, but a flash of gunfire and chaos follows. The sharp crack of gunshots ricochets off the walls, and in an instant, everything snaps into full-blown violence.

I dive behind a stack of crates, shouting to Irina, "Stay low!" But in the confusion, I can't see her. I fire back at Sergei's men.

A bullet hits the crate I'm hiding behind, and it sends splinters of wood flying into the air. I duck lower, swearing under my breath.

Fuck. This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Katya, Does he still have more men coming?" I shout into the earpiece, my back pressed against the crate as bullets fly overhead.

"No, but I'm going to turn off the electricity system. You need to get out of there now through the tunnels,"

I peek over the crate, spotting Sergei in the middle of the chaos, barking orders at his men. His smug grin is gone, replaced by the cold, calculating expression of a man who sees shoot-outs like this often.

I take aim, firing a shot in his direction. He ducks just in time, and the bullet slams into the wall behind him. I grit my teeth.

"Sergei's slipping out," Katya's voice crackles in my ear, barely audible over the chaos. "He's heading for the back exit."

I jerk my head up, scanning the room. Through the haze of smoke and gunfire, I spot Sergei's unmistakable figure slipping through the fight, moving toward the far side of the warehouse.

The bastard's trying to run.

My hand tightens around my gun as I shift, ready to go after him, but before I can make a move, I see Irina.

She's on the opposite side of the room, and I can see her eyes locked on Sergei's retreating figure. Even through the chaos, I know what she's thinking. She's going after him.

I shout across the battlefield, "Irina! No!" but the relentless gunfire drowns out my voice. I can see the determination etched on her face, her body already moving toward the back exit.

"Fuck!" I growl, watching as she disappears into the smoke, heading in Sergei's direction.

I want to chase after her, to pull her back, but there's no clear path through the fight.

More gunshots ring out around me, and I duck as bullets tear through the crates I'm using for cover.

"She's going after Sergei," I bark into the earpiece, swearing under my breath. "Don't lose her from your sight. Irina is probably not thinking straight."

"Noted," Katya replies.

I grit my teeth as I fire off another shot, taking down one of Sergei's men. I'm pinned down by the gunfire, unable to move forward, unable to follow Irina.

"Damn it, Irina," I mutter under my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I struggle to keep an eye on her.

Through the thick smoke, I see her figure disappear into the shadows, chasing after Sergei. My gut twists with a mix of fear and anger, knowing full well that she's heading straight into danger.

"I'm going after her as soon as I can break through."