CHAPTER 7 – THE WOMAN HE CHOSE OVER HIS EMPIRE
CHAPTER 7 – THE WOMAN HE CHOSE OVER HIS EMPIRE
The black SUV cut through the empty streets before dawn.
Rain blurred the windshield.
Inside, no one spoke.
Kirill drove.
Two security vehicles followed several hundred yards behind.
Alina sat beside Damon in the back seat.
For nearly twenty minutes, silence filled the space between them.
Then she noticed the blood.
A fresh stain slowly spread beneath the sleeve of his black shirt.
"You reopened it again."
Damon didn't answer.
"You should be in a hospital."
"I've survived worse."
"That's not an answer."
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.
"It usually is."
She sighed and carefully pressed a clean cloth against the bandage.
"You keep pretending you're invincible."
His gray eyes met hers.
"And you keep pretending you're not frightened."
Neither denied the accusation.
For the first time since they had met, they shared something close to peace.
It lasted exactly nine seconds.
Kirill's phone rang.
He glanced at the encrypted screen.
His expression changed instantly.
"What is it?" Damon asked.
"Our rear convoy."
A burst of static.
Then frantic shouting.
"They've been hit!"
An explosion thundered somewhere behind them.
Kirill looked into the mirror.
"They found us."
Three black SUVs burst from opposite streets.
Gunfire shattered the morning quiet.
Bullets struck the armored vehicle in rapid succession.
Kirill jerked the steering wheel hard.
"Hold on!"
The SUV spun onto a narrow industrial road.
Another explosion rocked the rear escort.
One vehicle flipped onto its side in a shower of sparks.
Smoke swallowed the intersection.
"They knew our route," Kirill growled.
Damon looked toward the floor.
His eyes narrowed.
"Stop the car."
Kirill frowned.
"What?"
"Now."
The SUV screeched beneath an abandoned rail bridge.
Everyone climbed out.
Within seconds Damon crouched beside the vehicle.
His fingers slid beneath the chassis.
Then—
He ripped away a tiny black device.
A magnetic GPS tracker.
Kirill's face hardened.
"So that's how."
Damon crushed it beneath his heel.
"They've been following us since we left."
Alina stared at the broken tracker.
"They always knew where I was..."
"No," Damon said quietly.
"They knew where I was."
He looked at her.
"And because you were with me..."
"...they found you."
Before anyone could move again—
A slow clap echoed beneath the bridge.
Roman Orlov stepped from the shadows.
He wore a charcoal overcoat and black leather gloves.
Behind him stood nearly twenty armed men.
He smiled as though greeting old friends.
"Damon."
Damon's expression never changed.
"Roman."
Roman's gaze shifted to Alina.
"So this is the woman."
Alina felt something cold settle inside her chest.
Roman looked almost disappointed.
"I expected someone extraordinary."
He shrugged.
"Instead..."
"...she's simply kind."
He smiled at Damon.
"Funny how men like us always fall because of kindness."
Kirill raised his weapon.
Twenty rifles answered him instantly.
Roman chuckled.
"Let's not be dramatic."
He took one step forward.
"I'll make this simple."
He pointed at Alina.
"Give her to me."
"No."
Damon didn't hesitate.
Roman sighed.
"I thought you'd say that."
"So here's my second offer."
He spread his hands.
"Your empire."
"Every warehouse."
"Every account."
"Every territory."
"You sign them over today..."
"...and she walks away alive."
Silence.
Even the rain seemed to stop.
Kirill looked toward Damon.
He already knew the answer.
Or thought he did.
The Volkov organization had taken thirty years to build.
Hundreds of loyal families depended on it.
Thousands of livelihoods.
Entire neighborhoods.
Everything Damon had inherited from his father.
Roman smiled.
"You won't do it."
Damon reached inside his coat.
Roman's men raised their rifles.
Instead of a weapon—
Damon removed a leather portfolio.
Kirill's eyes widened.
"No..."
He knew exactly what it contained.
Emergency transfer documents.
Ownership papers.
Control of the Volkov empire.
Kirill stepped closer.
"You prepared these?"
Days ago.
The very night of the attack.
Damon signed the final page without taking his eyes off Roman.
Then handed the documents forward.
Roman stared.
"You'd surrender everything?"
Damon's answer came without hesitation.
"Yes."
Roman actually laughed.
"The great Damon Volkov."
"The man everyone feared."
"Destroyed..."
"...by a waitress."
"No."
Damon looked toward Alina.
Then back at Roman.
"Saved."
For several seconds, no one moved.
Roman slowly accepted the documents.
He flipped through them.
Every signature.
Every seal.
Authentic.
He had won.
Everything.
Yet instead of satisfaction...
His smile slowly disappeared.
"You really love her."
Damon said nothing.
Roman looked at Alina.
Then quietly folded the papers.
"You know..."
He said almost sadly,
"...I spent twenty years trying to become more powerful than you."
He looked at Damon again.
"And today you defeated me."
Kirill frowned.
Roman continued.
"I built an empire."
"You built someone willing to give one away."
He laughed once.
Softly.
"I can't compete with that."
Without warning—
Roman tore the documents in half.
Then again.
And again.
The pieces drifted into the rain.
Every man beneath the bridge watched in stunned silence.
Roman dropped the scraps at Damon's feet.
"I don't want your empire anymore."
One of his own men stepped forward in confusion.
"Boss?"
Roman never looked away from Damon.
"If a man is willing to surrender everything..."
"...there is nothing left to steal."
He turned toward his convoy.
"We're leaving."
"Just like that?" Kirill asked.
Roman smiled.
"No."
He glanced once more at Alina.
"Take care of him."
"He's much worse at surviving than people think."
May you like
Then Roman climbed into his car.
Within moments, the convoy disappeared into the rain.
