Chapter 278

ALEXANDER

I moved.

Two steps, that was all it took to close the gap.

A twist of the wrist and I ripped the rifle out of Baldie's hands before he even registered it was gone.

The second man came at me from the side, and I swung the stolen rifle around, catching him across the face with a wet crack that sent him staggering, blood spraying from his nose.

Baldie lunged for his weapon, hands scrabbling like he actually thought he had a chance of getting it back.

Oh, bless his optimistic little heart.

Did he think I was going to hand it back? Maybe throw in a heartfelt apology for the misunderstanding?

Adorable.

Muscle memory took over before I'd even finished the thought.

I dropped my weight low, hooked my leg behind his ankles, and yanked back hard, stealing his balance out from under him in one clean motion.

He didn't have time to brace.

His feet left the ground and he hit flat on his back, hard enough to knock every last bit of air out of his lungs in one ragged whoosh.

I didn't give him a chance to find it again. The rifle stock came down across his skull, once, solid and final, making sure he stayed exactly where he'd landed.

Was it necessary? Debatable.

Did it feel good? Absolutely.

I stood over him for a moment, breathing steadily as he struggled to gather whatever dignity he had left.

“Come on, Baldi…”

I tilted my head, looking down at him.

“Or should I just call you Dick for short?”

A slow grin tugged at my mouth.

“Actually, that fits better. Less effort for both of us, and it seems pretty accurate considering the decisions you've been making lately.”

The taller one had finally shaken off the hit to his nose and came rushing at me, murder written all over what was left of his face.

“Сука, я раздавлю тебя как таракана,” he growled, the Russian insult dripping with spite.

I raised an eyebrow, almost amused.

I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Really? ‘I’ll crush you like a cockroach’?

I let my gaze drift over him from head to toe before clicking my tongue.

“Bit ambitious, don't you think? You can't even hold onto your own rifle, and you're already making promises.”

I flashed him a lazy smile.

“Tell you what... survive the next thirty seconds, and I'll consider taking the threat seriously.”

He swung wide and wild, all rage and no discipline, and I sidestepped it easily, caught his arm on the follow-through, and used his own momentum against him — one clean pivot, and his face met the nearest tree trunk with a crunch that silenced whatever else he'd been planning to say.

He dropped to his knees, dazed, blood pouring from his broken nose.

I didn’t give him time to recover.

I drew the dagger in one smooth motion and drove it into the side of his neck, twisting the blade to make sure the job was done.

He gurgled once, eyes widening in shock, then slumped forward.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist.

“Wow. Not even twenty seconds.”

I shook my head, genuinely disappointed.

Baldie was starting to come around, letting out a low groan as he rolled onto his side and tried to push himself upright.

Persistent little bastard.

I stepped over him and dropped into a crouch, pressing the flat of my blade lightly against his throat.

“You should've fucking stayed down,” I said, almost kindly.

Then I drew the knife across his neck in one smooth, practiced motion.

The cut was clean.

His hands flew instinctively to his throat, desperately trying to hold together what no longer could be. Blood spilled through his fingers in thick, crimson streams as his eyes grew impossibly wide—the unmistakable look of a man realizing that every stupid decision he'd made had finally presented him with the bill.

I wiped the blood from my knuckles onto my trousers and glanced between the body beside me and the man barely clinging to life at my feet.

“Pathetic,” I muttered with a disappointed sigh.

I shook my head slowly.

“I take back what I said earlier. You lot really aren't as professional as I gave you credit for.”

My eyes flicked over them.

“Turns out Santos got ripped off.

Someone should tell him to ask for a refund. Because these ‘professional killers’ he hired? Absolute scam.”

I clicked my tongue.

“Calling you professional killers is false advertising. That’s like calling a toddler with a water pistol a military strategist.”

I crouched slightly, looking down at them.

“Really disappointing. I expected a challenge. Instead, I got a group project where everyone forgot to do their homework.”

Baldie made another wet, choking sound behind me.

I looked back down at him.

“Oh, you're still with me.”

I crouched beside him again as casually as if we were neighbors chatting over a garden fence instead of him bleeding out into the dirt.

“You know what your problem was?”

He clutched harder at his throat, every attempt to answer dissolving into a useless, bubbling gargle.

I tilted my head, pretending to consider it.

"No? That’s fine, take your time. Little busy at the moment, I get it.”

A thoughtful pause.

“Well... actually, don't. You're on a bit of a deadline. Literally.”

I watched him claw helplessly at the wound before giving him an almost sympathetic smile.

“I'll answer for you instead. You're clearly not bringing much to the conversation.”

I rested my forearms on my knees, settling in like the conversation might take a while.

“You forgot something very important.”

I leaned closer, my voice calm enough to almost sound like I was explaining a simple mistake to a child.

“My wife isn’t a bargaining chip. She isn’t entertainment. She isn’t some cheap little toy for a pack of brain-dead idiots to pass around while making disgusting jokes.”

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head in disappointment.

“Really, that was your big mistake. A truly spectacularly stupid one.”

He tried to speak.

What came out was nothing more than a wet, broken gurgle.

Which, honestly, was understandable given the situation.

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking. It’s rude.”

I tapped a finger against my knee, pretending to think.

“Now, where was I?”

I looked down at him.

“Oh, right. My wife.”

My voice dropped several degrees on those words.

“You and your little book club of idiots decided the smartest move was going after her.”

I shook my head slowly.

“And then—and this is the part I’m genuinely struggling to understand—you somehow managed to lower the collective intelligence of the entire group even further.”

A faint, humorless smile tugged at my mouth.

“Because you actually convinced yourselves that I would just stand there. That I would watch you hurt her and do nothing.”

I gave a quiet laugh.

“That’s the part I find fascinating. Not the stupidity. I’ve seen plenty of that today. No, it’s the confidence.”

I leaned in slightly.

“You walked into an orphanage, threatened my family, and thought I was the easy part of the equation.”

I sighed.

“Honestly, I’m almost impressed. It takes a special kind of stupidity to look at a man like me and think, ‘Yes, that’s the one we don’t need to worry about.’”

I tilted my head.

“Congratulations. You managed to achieve it.”

I pointed the bloodied dagger at him like a professor emphasizing an important lesson.

“Here's the thing about me. I can forgive a lot. Bad manners. Terrible fashion choices. Even people who put pineapple on pizza if I'm feeling unusually charitable.”

I smiled pleasantly.

“But nobody talks about my wife like that and walks away breathing.”

I paused, looking him over.

“Well... technically you're still breathing.”

His chest hitched violently.

“For another few seconds.”

His eyes grew even wider as he fought for air.

“Oh, don't look so surprised,” I said with a sigh.

“Actions have consequences. This is one of those valuable life lessons. Admittedly, it's arriving a little late to be useful.”

He tried to speak.

Nothing came out except another wet choke.

I sighed dramatically.

"Honestly, if you'd opened with 'Good evening, Mr. Dimitri. Your wife is lovely and I hope she has a wonderful day,' we'd be having a completely different conversation.

I'd probably still kill you..." I admitted after a moment.

"Occupational hazard."

My attention returned to him.

"But at least it would've been less personal."

A final shudder ran through him before his body went limp, the fear frozen permanently in his vacant stare.

I watched him for a moment, then exhaled through my nose.

“Fucking finally.”

I wiped the dagger clean on his jacket with almost absent-minded with the casual annoyance of someone cleaning spilled coffee off a countertop.

Voices echoed.

More footsteps.

More rifles.

More men who had somehow looked at today's plan and thought, Yes... invading an orphanage while Alexander Dimitri is inside sounds like an excellent career move.

I rolled my shoulders, twirling the dagger once before starting toward the next unfortunate soul.

They were coming.

Good.

I was just starting to enjoy myself.

I smiled.

Finally.

Someone else wanted my attention.

“Excellent,” I muttered under my breath.

“I was beginning to think I'd have to do all the walking.”