Page 80 of Crimson Fate

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Page 80 of Crimson Fate

“He’s right,” I confirm. “Eva needs us.”

We all head into the panic room off the kitchen, which houses an arsenal of weapons. I shove a spare magazine into the inner pocket of my jacket, my hands operating on muscle memory as I check and recheck my gear. The air is thick with tension, each of us moving with purpose. Alexei and Nikolai also take any necessary equipment. It’s not just about vengeance. It’s about retrieval, about bringing back the piece of my soul that’s been torn away.

“Vincent.” Alexei’s voice cuts through the clatter of weapons being loaded. He stands there, his gun already holstered, with a grim determination in his eyes. “When Amelia was taken, I thought I was gonna lose my mind. The fear eats at you, doesn’t it?”

I nod. The fear isn’t just eating at me—it’s devouring me whole.

“Knowing the woman you love is in danger...” He shakes his head. “I get it. And I’m telling you, we will do whatever it takes to bring Eva home.”

“Alexei...” Emotion clogs my throat, but I force it down.

“Brother,” he says, and it’s more than a word; it’s a vow.

I nod, unable to return the sentiment, yet still grateful to the man beside me. I’m not ready to trust him, but I’m starting to see why Amelia does.

Amelia strides into the room as the men finish their preparations, her dark hair like a battle flag. She picks up a sleek black pistol and checks the chamber without hesitation.

“Amelia, you aren’t going,” Alexei commands, the boss in him surfacing instantly.

“I thought we already discussed this when we went over the plan,” she argues.

“You said you were going, but I did not agree.”

She levels a look at him so fierce it could stop a bullet. “Remember what you always say to your men. I’m your queen. What I say goes, and I say I’m going.”

I can’t help but laugh, a brief, bitter sound. “Welcome to the hell I went through my entire life trying to keep this one safe.”

“Then you stay in the car,” Alexei adds as he follows my sister out of the room.

Amelia chuckles, turning to pat Alexei on the arm. “Okay, honey, whatever you say.”

Everyone in the room already knows Amelia has zero intention of listening to Alexei.

As we walk toward the elevator, Marco calls the captains to disperse them and their men to Anthony’s businesses. Our resolve is ironclad, our purpose singular. The only victory will be Eva’s safe return and Anthony’s head.

Chapter Thirty

The engine purrs to a hush as Nico coasts the sleek black sedan into the shadow of a maintenance building, a stone’s throw from the docks.

“Remember, boys,” I murmur, “eyes sharp, mouths shut.” The dim glow from the dashboard highlights the determination in Nico’s eyes; a silent nod is his only response.

Marco’s phone vibrates incessantly, light flickering against his focused expression. “All of the captains so far have checked in and said they don’t see a sign of Anthony or his guys,” he says, thumbs swiping over the screen.

“Good,” I reply, feeling the familiar itch of adrenaline beneath my skin. “That means he’s likely here, and Gia was telling us the truth.”

When we exit the vehicle, we look around to ensure nobody has noticed our arrival. We sneak through a hole in the fence, careful to stay hidden in the shadows as we approach the edge of the docks.

“Stick to the plan,” I remind them, knowing how dangerous it will be for Eva if one of us gets the urge to play hero. Her safety is the only thing that matters to me.

I inch forward, every muscle coiled tight, ready to spring at the first sign of trouble. The salt air is sharp in my lungs as I lead the way, Marco and Nico a silent shadow on my flanks.

We pause, cloaked by the bulk of a shed. Ahead, the dock stretches out. Marco’s hand is steady as he lifts the binoculars to his eyes, the lenses catching the scant light as he surveys the scene before us. I watch his jaw clench.

“Anything?” I prod silently, patience fraying. He lowers the binoculars, turning his head just enough to catch my gaze with his peripheral vision.

“They’re loading crates onto the yacht.”

“What the fuck?” Nico mutters from my other side, the disgust edged with an icy resolve. “Is he smuggling shit out with him?”




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