bChapter /bb274 /b

The afternoon sun glinted off the metallic gray finish of my Lamborghini as I cruised through Moscow’s wide boulevards.

My peaceful drive didn’tst long. In my rearview mirror, I spotted three sports cars weaving through traffic toward me–a red Ferrarib, /bba /bck Maserati, and a pink Lamborghini. The drivers were young men, probably in their twenties, with expensive watches glinting in the sunlight and self–satisfied smirks stered across their faces.

They pulled up alongside me at a red light, revving their engines. The guy in the Ferrari whistled and called out something in Russian that I chose to ignore. His friendsughed, and the one in the pink Lamborghini leaned out his window.

“Nice car, beautifuldy! Want to race?” His English carried a thick Russian ent.

I elerated as the light turned green, hoping to leave them behind, but they stayed on my tailb, /bhonking and showing off with dangerous maneuvers. The pink Lamborghini cut in front of me, forcing me to brake.

That’s when I got a better look at the driver of the pink car. Something about him seemed familiar.

“Hey gorgeousb, /bwhy note for a ride with bus/bb?/b” the driver called out, his sunsses pushed up on his slicked–back hair. “We know all

the best spots in Moscow!”

I pulled out my phone and texted Night: iWhere /iiare /iiyou/ii? /i

His response came quickly: iArctic /iiFox /iiHQ/i. iDealing /iiwith /iithe /iiusual /iibullshit/ii. /iiWhy/ii? /iiNeed /iisomething/ii, /iibaby/ii? /i

I typed: iProgress/ibi? /i/b

iThese /iiold /iibastards /iijust /iiwant /ito isqueeze /isome ibenefits /iiout /iiof /iime /iibefore /iiletting /iigo/i. I’m ithinking /iiof /iitaking /iithe /iihard /iiapproach/i.

Looking at the message, a n immediately formed in my mind.

I deliberately cut in front of the pink Lamborghini, then slowed down, allowing him to chase me. I repeated this several times, showcasing my superior driving skills while subtly leading them toward Red Square, where there would be plenty of witnesses.

The young men grew increasingly agitated, especially the pink Lamborghini driver. When we reached a crowded area near Red Square, I pulled over abruptly. As expected, they surrounded my car.

The pink Lamborghini driver jumped out first, storming toward me as bI /bcalmly stepped out of my vehicle.

“You think that’s funny, bitch?” he shouted, reaching for my arm.

I let him grab me, then executed a simple wrist lock that brought him to his kneesb, /bhis face contorted in pain.

“What’s your name?” I asked coldly.

“Benjamin,” he spat, trying to wrestle free. “Let go of me!”

“Benjamin who?”

b15:53 /bbSun/bb, /bbSep /bb28 /b

“Benjamin Thorne! My father is an executive at Arctic Fox! He’ll destroy you for this!

Bingo. Exactly what I needed.

I released him and pulled out my phone, calling Night while maintaining eye contact with Benjamin, who was now surrounded by his friends.

“Hey,” I said when Night answered. “I’ve been grabbed by Benjamin Griffinn and his friends. We’re at Red Square.” bI /bpaused for effect. “Remember to talk to his father about it. Have a good conversation with him.”

Benjamin lunged at me, but I sidestepped smoothly. I heard Night’s voice transform instantly from casual to murderous rage.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he snarled.

bI /bcaught Benjamin’s arm and flipped him onto the concrete, listening as silence fell over the phone. bI /bcould imagine the Arctic bFox /bexecutives frozen in ce, their resource allocation discussion forgotten in the wake of Night’s outburst.

“You dare touch me?” Benjamin struggled to his feet, charging at me again.

I dodged sidewaysb, /bdriving my knee into his stomach while hearing Night m something–probably his fist–against a table through the phone.

“I’ll be right there.” On the phone, Night’s voice dripped with deadly intent. Then I heard him address someone else–definitely Griffinn. “Your son just grabbed my woman. If anything happens to her, I’ll personally put a bullet through his skull.”

I blocked a punch from one of Benjamin’s friends but deliberately slowed my movements, allowing another to grab my arm.

“What are you talking about?” came an unfamiliar voice through the phone–Griffinn, no doubt.

“If she’s harmed in any way, I’m not just taking 791 Group. I’ll burn Arctic Fox to the ground.” Night’s voice was ice cold.

I heard a chair being kicked backward, followed by rapid footsteps. By now, Benjamin and his friends had surrounded me, and I pretended to struggle, letting them believe they had the upper hand.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Benjamin grabbed my hair, triumphant.

“You’re dead,” I whispered, a cold smile flickering across my face. I could hear the silence on the other end of the call, followed by nervous murmurs from the executives–they all knew Night never made empty threats.

I feigned weakened resistance, allowing Benjamin and his friends to push me into the back of the pink Lamborghini.

By the time Night arrived at Red Square with a dozen elite members of 791 Group, Benjamin and his friends had tried to intimidate me at a nearby parking garage.

Night burst into the garage like a hurricane, his eyes wild with calcted rage. With one swift kick, he sent Benjamin sprawling bacross /bthe concrete floor.

“Touch her again, Night hissed, pressing his boot against Benjamin’s throat, “and I’ll end byou/bb./bb” /b

i2/4 /i

Benjamin’s friends backed away, suddenly realizing who they were dealing with.

Back at Night’s estate, we could barely contain ourughter as we celebrated in his study.

*Your face when you kicked him,” I said, epting a ss of vodka from Night. “Oscar–worthy/performance.” fndf94 Readplete version only at find(?)ovel/fndf94

Night grinned, loosening his tie. “How was my line delivery? ‘I’ll burn Arctic Fox to the ground–too much?”

“Perfect amount of psychotic rage,” I assured him, taking a sip. “Griffinn will be desperate to get his son back.*

“And desperate men make hasty deals.” Night clinked his ss against mine.

I nodded. “Some makeup to enhance the bruises they actually gave me. Nothing too dramatic–we don’t want him suspicious.”

Nightughed. “We should’ve gone into acting instead of killing.”

“Less money, more publicity,” I replied. “Bad trade–off.”

A security alert chimed, interrupting our nning session.

“Griffinn’s here,” Night said, checking the camera feed. “Time for act two.”

I quickly applied some strategic makeup to look distressed and disheveled.

When Griffinn was escorted into Night’s study, he found Nightforting me on the sofa, my face partially hidden against his shoulder.

“Where’s my son?” Griffinn demanded, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.

Night looked up, his expression darkening. “Safe. Unlike my girlfriend here, who your son and his friends thought would be fun to rough

up.”

“This is a misunderstanding,” Griffinn began, his tone shifting to cating. “Boys will be boys-b” /b

Night pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at Griffinn, who flinched visibly. Everyone at Arctic Fox knew Night was unhinged enough to actually pull the trigger, and powerful enough to get away with it.

“Your son put his hands on what’s mine,” Night said coldly. “In what world did you think that would end well for him?”

Griffinn swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

“I want what I’ve always wanted,” Night replied. “791 Group, free and clear from Arctic Fox.”

“That’s not possible-”

“It is now.” Night cocked the gun. “You have two days to draw up eptable terms. Until then, Benjamin stays with me bas /binsurance.”

Griffinn’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Two days.”

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