LOGINAndrei drove with firm hands on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the snow-covered road. Feliks sat in the front seat in silence, his face turned toward the window. Yulian remained in the back seat, beside Boris’s body, covered by Andrei’s coat.None of the three had said much during the drive — there was nothing to say. The silence was heavy, interrupted only by the sound of the tires on the snow and by each one’s controlled breathing.Boris looked as if he were sleeping, and it was almost cruel how much he resembled it. For a few seconds, Yulian even thought that if he closed his eyes, he could pretend nothing had happened. That they were simply taking the old man back home after one more of his mysterious outings. But the smell of blood was still there, soaked into the cold air, and there was no way to pretend it did not exist.Andrei parked the car in front of the main entrance of the Demidov mansion. None of them moved immediately. Feliks slowly released his breath, his eyes
Mikhail remained in front of Boris, unable to lift his eyes. The silence between them was far too heavy, loaded with years of loyalty that were now dissolving like smoke.Boris was still trying to understand how that reality could exist. Mikhail had been inside his house, at his side, for years. He had known his habits, his men, his conversations. He had known stories Boris would never have told any other person. And all of that had reached someone Boris deeply despised.“Where is your family?” Boris asked, his voice low but firm.Mikhail remained still. The question seemed to hit him differently, as if he had not expected Boris to care about that after everything.“They are safe.”Boris narrowed his eyes.“I didn’t ask that. I asked where they are.”Mikhail did not answer. Boris took a step toward him, his silver eyes hardened.“Where are they, Mikhail?”“I don’t know.” The answer came hesitant, and Boris’s instinct awakened immediately. Something was wrong — very wrong.“How do you
Boris knew something was wrong even before he reached the address. The place was far too isolated — an old building, set away from the main roads, surrounded by snow-covered trees and by a silence that felt artificial, as if the environment itself were holding its breath.There was no movement in the vicinity, no cars passing, no lights in the neighboring houses. But there was scent: Lycans, many of them, scattered across the grounds.Boris got out of the car slowly, closing the door behind him with a dry click. He did not need to ask who was there — his instinct had already answered. He walked a few meters, keeping his eyes alert to the surroundings, every sense on high alert.He had brought no one with him; the message had been clear enough for him to understand that any attempt to appear accompanied could put Mikhail in danger. Or at least that was what he believed, until he felt a different presence — stronger, older, more accustomed to command.Boris stopped. Footsteps rose behin
The library was silent when Boris’s phone vibrated on the table. It was the middle of the night. Most of the mansion had already sunk into silence, and only the weak light of the desk lamp illuminated the books scattered across the table. Boris was not reading.The photograph remained in front of him: Mikhail, alive, looking directly at the camera. The image still seemed impossible.After decades of knowing that man, Boris knew he would not leave a photograph hidden behind that specific row of books without reason. Mikhail had noticed something — some pattern, some threat — and before disappearing, he had left a clue for him.The phone vibrated again, and Boris lowered his eyes to the screen. Unknown number, disposable, no identification. He opened the message.“He is alive.”Only that. Boris remained still for a few seconds, his wrinkled fingers hovering over the screen. Then another message appeared.“If you want him to stay that way, come alone.”Below it, there was an address, a t
Boris noticed Mikhail’s absence even before anyone needed to inform him. It was a small detail — a man who was not where he should be, a familiar presence missing from his usual post. But Mikhail was not just any man.He had worked at Boris’s side for decades. He knew his schedules, his habits, his meetings, and above all, he knew the way Boris liked the property’s security to function. If he needed to be absent, he would give notice. He always did.Boris raised his eyes from the document he was reading, his brow furrowed.“Where is Mikhail? I haven’t seen him today.”The security man in front of him hesitated.“We still haven’t been able to locate him, sir.”“Since when?” Boris’s voice came out sharper than he intended.“Since this morning. He didn’t show up for the shift change.”The old man remained still for a few seconds, processing the information. Mikhail never ran late, never failed to appear without reason. He was the most punctual man on the entire property.“And no one foun
Alexei smiled, squeezing her hand lightly, and his expression gradually grew more serious, the lines of humor softening.“What’s the schedule? I need to know.”Carla let out a sigh, already expecting that. It was inevitable, like snow in winter.“Here we go. Full interrogation.”“It’s not an interrogation. It’s planning. Responsible person stuff.”“Eight in the morning. I leave at five in the afternoon.” She answered with the patience of someone who had already repeated that information for the third time.“Who’s driving?”“The driver. The same one as always.”“And the bodyguard?”“He’s coming with me. In the same car.” She raised an eyebrow. “Satisfied?”“Almost.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes still analyzing.Carla narrowed her eyes, suspicious.“Are you planning something? Some extra measure I don’t know about?”“No. Nothing.” Alexei answered too quickly.“Are you sure?” She observed him carefully, looking for any sign of a lie.“I am. Absolute. One hundred percent.”She st
“This is going to be a problem, Alpha.”The Lycan murmured in his mind, its voice low and drawn out, like a warning whispered through clenched teeth.Dmitry didn’t respond. He moved his wrist discreetly, checking his watch as if trying to remind himself that time still followed rules. It was an exc
The large meeting room at Rurik Motors exuded power. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a privileged view of Moscow, while the dark wooden oval table dominated the center of the room. The black leather chairs, the discreet shine of the metal details, and the absence of any decorative excess
The glass-walled room on the top floor of Rurik Motors offered a silent spectacle of Moscow at night — cold, pulsating, and indifferent. Dmitry stood before the wall of glass, shoulders straight, a lit cigarette between his fingers, releasing the smoke with the same slowness with which time seemed
Standing in front of the imposing Rurik Motors building, Susan tried to ignore the wave of anxiety that was overtaking her. She took a deep breath and adjusted her glasses on her face before entering the building.The mirrored facade reflected the gray sky, giving an even more austere appearance to







