2025-12-23 17:56:05
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CHAPTER 171 The city had barely caught its breath from the chaos Nikolai had unleashed in his disappearance, yet he was already ready for the next move.Nikolai sat in a dimly lit room, the only light coming from a single desk lamp. The shadows stretched across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and the cold fire in his eyes. He tapped a finger against the table, watching a series of monitors display social media feeds, news alerts, and private messages—all buzzing with updates on the hunt for him.A small phone rang quietly on the side, and he answered without looking.“Yes?”A familiar voice whispered back, “Everything is in place. The media contacts are ready. The photos are… convincing.”Nikolai’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. “Good. Make sure the story hits first thing tomorrow morning. The fake wife, the images—they must be perfect. Subtle details, nothing sloppy.”“Understood,” the operative replied. “She’s already in position. All they need to do
THE COUNTERSTRIKE
Nikolai Volkov moved like a ghost through the city.Every alley, every building, every vehicle he passed had been studied, analyzed, and mentally mapped. Anastasia thought she could control the hunt by plastering his face on billboards, flooding social media, bribing reporters—but she had underestimated one thing: Nikolai thrived in chaos.He wasn’t running blindly. He was orchestrating.In an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, Nikolai convened with a few carefully selected allies—those who had proven loyalty and discretion in past operations. Each had received meticulous instructions weeks in advance, anticipating this very moment.Anton, his second-in-command, stood by a large digital map projected onto the wall. “They’ve increased patrols, every checkpoint, every known safehouse in the city. The media frenzy is… unprecedented.”Nikolai didn’t flinch. He leaned against the table, fingers steepled. “Perfect. Let them look where I’m not. While they chase shadows, we str
Time
CHAPTER 169 Anastasia sat behind her massive mahogany desk, the dim light of the late afternoon bouncing off the glass awards lining the walls. She tapped her fingers against the polished surface, irritation flickering in her dark eyes. The world outside moved on in ignorance, but inside her mind, one thought dominated everything: Nikolai Volkov had escaped.The phone call she made earlier still burned in her memory.“How could you let this happen?” Anastasia’s voice was ice, cutting through the conference line connecting her, the head prosecutor, and the prison warden. “A prisoner of his magnitude… he cannot simply vanish!”The head prosecutor stammered. “Miss Anastasia, we… we are investigating—”“Investigating?” Anastasia snapped. “Do you know who you’re dealing with? Nikolai Volkov is no ordinary criminal. He has influence, connections, and a mind that could dismantle lives faster than your entire department can process evidence. I don’t care what excuses you have. I want him fou
Status
Nikolai didn’t smile because he was pleased.He smiled because things were aligning.The safehouse sat on the edge of the old industrial district—abandoned warehouses, rusted rails, forgotten streets where the city’s laws softened into suggestions. From the outside, it looked like decay. From the inside, it was rebirth.A single bulb swung above a scarred wooden table. Maps were pinned to the walls. Names, numbers, routes. Cash stacked neatly beside burner phones. Men moved in and out quietly, efficient, disciplined—none of them asking questions they weren’t paid to ask.Nikolai stood at the center of it all, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, scars faintly visible along his forearm.Power didn’t always wear a crown.Sometimes it hid in shadows.“Status,” he said calmly.A man stepped forward—tall, lean, eyes sharp. “The shell companies are active. Two in the north, one offshore. Clean paper trails. No links to Volkov.”Nikolai nodded. “Good.”Another voice joined in. “The docks are
Destruction
Sofia didn’t remember how she left the café.Only that her hands were shaking.The city blurred past her windshield as she drove, traffic lights flashing red and green without meaning. Chloe’s voice replayed in her head over and over, each word cutting deeper than the last.You wanted a throne.You caused this.Call him off.“No,” Sofia muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “That’s not true. It wasn’t entirely my fault.”Her chest felt tight, like the air had thickened around her.Andrea wasn’t innocent. He never had been. He had chosen work over her, power over presence, silence over understanding. He had made her feel small long before she ever started wanting more.“I changed,” she whispered angrily to the empty car. “I paid for my mistakes.”She had rebuilt herself. Therapy. Distance. A new life. A new name in some circles. She wasn’t the same woman who had once been desperate for validation and control.So why did Chloe’s words still hurt?By the time Sofia reached her t
Promise
Chloe did not act on impulse.That was what made her dangerous.She sat alone in her study long after the sibling meeting ended, the house quiet except for the faint hum of the city beyond the estate walls. Her heels were off, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, dark hair pulled back into a severe knot. A tablet glowed on the desk in front of her, lines of information scrolling slowly as she read.Sofia.Former wife. Former problem. Permanent scar.Chloe’s lips pressed into a thin line.“So you’re back in the story,” she murmured.She didn’t ask Andrea for Sofia’s number.She didn’t need to.One call to a private investigator—someone Chloe had known for over a decade—was all it took. The man didn’t even ask why.“Give me thirty minutes,” he said.It took twenty-two.The number appeared on her screen with an updated address, a list of recent movements, and a note that made Chloe smile without humor.Recently contacted by Nikolai Volkov.“Of course you were,” Chloe muttered.She tapped th
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