Chapter 162 Chapter 162

Chapter 162 Chapter 162
Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Two

Dimitri

The Romano struck at dawn. Armed men stormed the compound in coordinated waves, breaking through defenses that were spread thin across fractured territories. Most of my elite guards were stationed at my wing. Most of Alexei's men were protecting the western district. The compound itself was undermanned and exposed.

Alarms screamed through the mansion. Gunfire erupted like thunder. The sound was deafening, a constant roar that shook the walls and rattled the windows. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, checked the clip, and ran.

The hallways were chaos. Men were shouting, running, dying. I saw bodies on the floor, some ours, some theirs. Blood was everywhere, splattered on the walls, pooling on the marble floors. The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood.

"Irina!" I shouted. "Nikolai!" But my voice was lost in the noise.

I fought my way through the compound, dropping attackers as they came. Years of training took over, muscle memory guiding my hands, my feet, my aim. I moved with lethal precision, every shot finding its mark.

Then I saw them across the chaos. Alexei was pulling Irina and Nikolai toward the reinforced safe room in the center of the building. Irina was clutching Nikolai to her chest, running as fast as she could. Behind them, gunfire followed, bullets chewing up the walls and sending chunks of plaster flying.

Alexei was shielding them with his body, his own gun firing back at the attackers. For one suspended moment, our eyes locked across the chaos.

And everything changed. The hatred melted. The months of war, of pain, of betrayal, all of it dissolved in an instant. What remained was something older and stronger. Brotherhood.

We moved without speaking. Without planning. Our bodies remembered what our minds had tried to forget. We had fought together for years, moving in perfect synchronization, each anticipating where the other would be, what the other needed.

I cleared the hallway on the left. Alexei took the right. We dropped attackers with brutal efficiency. For the first time in months, we were not enemies. We were brothers.

But there were too many. The Romano had brought an army. For every man we killed, two more appeared. They were flooding into the compound from multiple entry points, overwhelming our defenses through sheer numbers.

"Get them to the safe room!" I shouted to Alexei.

He nodded and turned to guide Irina, but in the chaos and the smoke, she had gotten separated. She had taken a wrong turn, ended up in an exposed corridor on the east side of the building.

And an attacker had found her.

The man raised his gun with a cold smile, taking his time. He aimed directly at her heart. Irina froze, clutching Nikolai desperately to her chest.

"No!" I shouted, already running.

But Alexei was closer. I saw it happen in slow motion. Time stretched and warped. Alexei saw the gun. Saw Irina's terrified face. Saw Nikolai's small body pressed against her.

He did not think. He just moved. He threw himself between them as the gun fired. The bullet hit him square in the chest with devastating force. The impact spun him around and he went down hard, blood blooming across his shirt like a dark flower spreading its petals.

"No!" Irina screamed, her voice raw and breaking.

I appeared behind the shooter and put a single bullet between his eyes. The man dropped like a puppet with cut strings. Then I was on my knees beside my brother, my hands pressing desperately against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding that would not stop.

Blood poured through my fingers, hot and slick and unstoppable. So much blood.

"No, no, no," I whispered, my voice cracking on each word. "Do not do this. Do not leave me."

Alexei gasped, choking on blood that filled his mouth and spilled from his lips. His forest green eyes were wide with shock and pain and something that looked almost like relief. "Dima," he choked out, using the childhood nickname he had not said in months.

"I am here," I said, tears streaming down my face. "I am here, brother. Just stay. Please stay."

"Take care of them," Alexei gasped, his hand reaching weakly for mine. His fingers were cold already. "Promise me. Promise me you will take care of my son."

"I promise," I choked out, gripping his hand like I could physically hold him to life. "I promise. I swear on our parents' graves. Just do not leave me."

Alexei smiled through the blood on his teeth. A real smile. Soft and genuine and heartbreaking. "I am sorry," he whispered. "For everything. For hurting you. For taking her. For all of it. I am so sorry, Dima."

"I forgive you," I said, the words tearing out of me like shards of glass. "I forgive you for everything. I love you. You are my brother. My twin. My other half. Just stay."

But Alexei's eyes were already dimming. His hand went limp in my grip. His last breath left him soft and quiet, like falling asleep after a long, exhausting day.

And he was gone.

I screamed. A sound of pure anguish that echoed through the compound, through the gunfire and chaos. A sound that came from the deepest part of my soul, from the place where my brother had lived since before we were born.

I did not know how long I knelt there, holding my brother's body. Time had lost all meaning. But eventually, Mikhail was pulling at my arm.

"Boss, we have to move! They are pushing through!"

I looked up, saw more Romano soldiers advancing down the corridor. Rage replaced grief in an instant. A cold, terrible rage that settled over me like ice.

I stood up, still holding my gun. "Get Irina and Nikolai to the safe room," I ordered.

"Boss, you cannot fight them all alone," Mikhail protested.

"Watch me," I said.

I moved toward the advancing soldiers. They saw me coming and raised their weapons. But they were too slow. I was faster, driven by grief and fury.

I killed three of them before they could fire. Dropped two more as they tried to take cover. Reloaded as I moved, my hands working on autopilot. More attackers appeared and I cut them down without mercy.

I was a machine. Death incarnate.

They had taken my brother. They had destroyed my home. And I was going to make every single one of them pay.

I fought my way through the compound, hunting Romano soldiers like animals. Some tried to run. I shot them in the back. Some tried to surrender. I killed them anyway.

Eventually, I found myself in the main hall. The bodies of Romano soldiers littered the floor. My men were scattered among them, dead or dying. The compound was in ruins, burning and broken.

And standing at the far end of the hall was Don Romano himself, surrounded by his last remaining bodyguards.

When he saw me, he smiled. "Mr. Volkov. I heard your brother died. How does it feel?"

I did not answer. I just raised my gun and fired. One of his bodyguards went down. Then another. Then another.

Don Romano's smile faded. He pulled out his own gun but I was faster. I shot him in the shoulder. He cried out and fell back against the wall.

I walked toward him slowly, deliberately. "You killed my brother," I said. My voice was cold, empty of emotion.

"Your father killed my son," Don Romano spat. "A child. An innocent child."

"I know," I said. "And I am sorry for that. But it does not give you the right to destroy innocent lives."

I stood over him, my gun pointed at his head. He looked up at me with defiant eyes. "Do it," he said. "Finish it."

My finger tightened on the trigger. All I had to do was squeeze. Just a little pressure and it would be over. Don Romano would be dead.

But then I thought of Alexei. Of his last words. Of the promise I had made.

I lowered my gun slightly. "No," I said. "You do not deserve a quick death."

But Don Romano was not done. With his good hand, he pulled out a hidden pistol from his jacket. Raised it toward me with a triumphant smile.

Before he could fire, Mikhail appeared and shot him three times in the chest. The old man's eyes widened in shock. The gun fell from his hand. He slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, leaving a trail of blood.

"Boss," Mikhail said. "Are you hit?"

I looked down at myself. There was so much blood on me I could not tell what was mine and what was my brother's. "I do not know," I admitted.

Mikhail checked me quickly. "You are wounded but not badly. We need to get you medical attention."

"After," I said. "First we secure the compound. Make sure they are all gone."

We spent the next hour hunting down the remaining Romano soldiers. Most had fled when they saw their leader fall. A few tried to fight. We killed them.

Finally, it was over. The compound was secure. The Romano attack had been defeated. But the price had been devastating. Bodies lay ev
erywhere. Blood covered the floors and walls. The compound was in ruins, parts of it still burning.

And my brother was dead.