Chapter 83

Chapter 83
A war of shadows.
Damian’s pov.

Milan’s skyline bled into the night as I stood at the edge of my penthouse balcony, a glass of whiskey untouched in my hand. Below, the city pulsed with life, oblivious to the war brewing in its veins.
Lucian’s war.
I had been betrayed before. By rivals, allies, even lovers. But never like this. Never by the one person who knows me inside out. Who carries my blood, my scars, my memories. 
Lucian didn’t just steal Sokolov’s heir. He’d stolen the balance of power.
The sound of the sliding glass door broke my thoughts.
Claire stepped out, wrapped in one of my shirts, her hair tousled from the shower. She didn’t speak immediately, just leaned against the railing, eyes scanning the streets far below. 
“You haven’t slept?” She said. 
“Sleep’s for men without enemies.”
She studied me, the faint light from the city outlining her features. “You’re planning something. Something reckless.”
I didn’t deny it. “The only way to beat Lucian is to become him. Think like him. Move like him. Hurt like him.”
Claire’s fingers tightened around the railing. “And betray like him?”
I met her gaze, unflinching. “Exactly like him.”
Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken fears. Then Claire pushed away from the railing and walked toward me, slipping her hands around my waist. 
“If you do this…you can’t come back from it,” she whispered. 
“I don't want to come back,” I murmured, pressing my lips briefly to her forehead. “I want to win.”
And I would.
The Cross war room was alive with movement.
Matteo, Elena, and half a dozen lieutenants gathered around the table, its surface littered with blueprints, satellite images, and coded reports. 
I entered, the quiet in my step replaced by the authority in my voice. “Lucian’s operating from Moldova now. Every shipment, every route, every alliance he’s built, it’s through there.”
Matteo tapped the map. “He’s using Tatiana Sokolov as a figurehead to court old Sokolov loyalists. That’s dangerous. They trust the name.”
“Then we take the name away,” I said. 
Elena frowned. “What’s your play?”
“Divide his new empire before it solidifies. He’s recruiting Sokolov’s old partners, but they hate each other. They old tolerate each other because they think Lucian’s united them. We give them a reason to turn on him.”
Matteo leaned forward. “That’s risky. You’re talking about making deals with the same men who want you dead.”
“No deals,” I corrected. “Betrayal.”
I pointed at the map. “We leak intel that Lucian plans to kill Tatiana and take the Sokolov empire for himself. Feed it to one faction, make them paranoid. Offer another faction a bigger cut to take him out. Then we sit back and watch them tear each other apart.”
Elena’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. “And while they’re distracted.”
My eyes darkened. “We take Tatiana.”
Matteo gave a short nod. “I’ll start working the channels.”
As the meeting broke apart, Elena lingered. “You know what you’re doing, right?”
I smirked faintly. “No. That’s why it’ll work.”
Three nights later, I was in Bucharest neutral ground, at least on paper. In reality, it’s a dean of snakes, every man and every woman in the smoky back room of the old casino weighing how much my head’s worth. 
But I wasn’t here for cards. 
A tall, broad man in a steel-gray suit approached. 
Grigori Volkov, former Sokolov’s enforcer turned black market kingpin. Lucian has been courting him for weeks.
“Cross,” Grigori said with a shark’s grin. “I thought you’d be hiding in Italy.”
“I don’t hide,” I replied, stepping forward. “I came with a gift.”
Grigori raised an eyebrow as I tossed a leather folder on the table. Inside, photos, intercepted communications, and forged plans showing Lucian’s supposed intent to assassinate Tatiana once his alliance was secured. 
Grigori flipped through the pages slowly, expression unreadable. “If this is true… then Lucian’s a bigger fool than I thought.”
“It’s true enough,” I said. “And when it happens, his allies will look to you for leadership.”
Grigori’s grin widened. “And what do you want?”
“Just to see him fall.”
Grigori closed the folder. “Careful, Cross. Sometimes the man who lights the match burns with the house.”
I smiled coldly. “Sometimes. But not tonight.”
We shook hands, and one more piece moved into place. 
The second part of the plan was more dangerous. 
I met with Irina Mikhailova, a weapon broker with ties to half the Sokolov loyalists. She’d been with Lucian recently, but I knew her price; opportunity. 
We met at a quiet riverside cafe in Chisinau, far from the city’s glitz. Irina lit a cigarette and studied me through the haze. 
“You’re either very brave or very stupid, Cross,” she said. 
“Both,” I replied, sliding an envelope across the table. Inside, bank account numbers, transfer codes, and enough cash to fund a private army.”
Irina raised a brow. “Generous.”
“That’s for you,” I said. “In exchange, I need your network to start whispering that Lucian is about to turn on Grigori Volkov. That he’s promised your competitors the same deals he promised you.”
Her smile was slow and predatory. “You want them at each other’s throats.”
“I want chaos.”
Irina exhaled smoke. “And what happens when Lucian finds out you’re the one pulling the strings?”
I leaned back. “He won’t. Because by the time he realizes, I’ll have taken Tatiana and dismantled everything he’s built.”
Irina studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “I like men who gamble big.”
“Good,” I said, standing. “Because the stakes just got bigger.”
By the time I returned to Milan, the plan was already in motion. Reports were coming in, small skirmishes between Lucian’s newly allied factions, whispered accusations, sudden disappearances.
It was working. 
But I know Lucian wouldn’t sit still for long. He’d move to secure Tatiana, and when he does, I have to ready. 
In the dim light of the war room, I spread out the latest intel. The convoy routes, the safe houses, the security rotations around Tatiana. One pattern emerged a single location in Odessa where Tatiana was being moved between strongholds. 
A window of opportunity. 
Matteo looked over my shoulder. “This is it?”
“This is it,” I confirmed. “We hit them during the transfer. No safe house walls, no fortress. Just a road and a convoy.”
Claire stepped in dressed in black tactical gear. “And Lucian?”
My gaze hardened. “If he’s there, we finish it.”
Elena smirked. “You’re planning to put a bullet in your brother?”
My lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m planning to end the war.”
Outside, the city lights flickered under the night sky. Inside, my war room had just crossed a line. 
There will be no turning back.