Chapter 136 Nikolai
I ran through the woods with bullets chasing me like angry hornets. My lungs burned. My legs felt like they were made of lead. Blood dripped from the wound on my forehead and into my eyes. I could barely see where I was going. Behind me I heard Volkov's men shouting, dogs barking, engines roaring to life. I kept running.
I did not stop until I reached the edge of the city. Until I collapsed in an alley behind a dumpster and vomited from exhaustion and pain.
Anya was still there. Still chained in that basement. Still with Volkov. And I had left her. I slammed my fist against the concrete wall until my knuckles bled. I screamed until my throat was raw. But it changed nothing. She was still there and I was still here. Alive but broken.
I stayed in that alley for two days. No food. No water. Just me and my failures and the rats that came to investigate. On the third day, an old woman found me. She did not ask questions. She just brought me bread and water and a blanket. I thanked her and she left without a word.
That night I crawled out of the alley and stole clothes from a laundromat. I washed the blood from my face in a public fountain. I looked at my reflection in the water and barely recognized the man staring back. Hollow eyes. Sunken cheeks. A ghost wearing my skin.
But ghosts could still fight. Ghosts could still plan. Ghosts could still get revenge.
I needed help. Real help. The kind of help that only came from other men in my world. Men with power and resources and armies. I spent a week tracking down the other mafia bosses in Moscow. The ones who had survived the wars and the purges and the endless cycle of violence.
First I went to see Sergei Petrov. He controlled the docks and the shipping routes. A fat man with gold teeth and a reputation for brutality. I found him in a restaurant surrounded by bodyguards. When he saw me, his eyes went wide.
"Markov? I thought you were dead."
"I was. Now I am back. I need men and weapons to take down Alexei Volkov."
Sergei laughed so hard his belly shook. "You want me to go to war with Volkov? Your wife chose him, from what I heard. She told you to leave. Why would I risk my men for a woman who does not even want you?"
"She was protecting me. It was a trap."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it is not my problem." Sergei waved his hand dismissively. "Get out of my restaurant, Markov. You are bad for business."
His guards escorted me to the door and threw me into the street.
Next I went to see Viktor Sokolov. A different Viktor. This one ran the weapons trade in the eastern district. He received me in a warehouse filled with crates of guns. He was tall and thin with a scar across his throat.
"Nikolai Markov," he said with a raspy voice. "I heard you were crawling through the gutters begging for help."
"I need allies. Volkov has become too powerful. If we do not stop him now, he will eventually come for all of us."
"Perhaps. But why should I help you? You abandoned your empire. You left a power vacuum that nearly destroyed this city." He walked closer. "I will help you. But it will cost you. When Volkov is dead, I want half of what was his. Half his territory. Half his business. Half his money."
"That is too much."
"Then find someone else. But you will not, because no one else will help a dead man walking."
I clenched my fists. He was right. I had no leverage. No power. Nothing to bargain with except promises. "Fine. You get half. But only if we win."
"Oh, we will win," Viktor said. "Because I do not lose."
The third man I visited was worse than the other two combined. Ivan Smoke. They called him Smoke because he burned everything he touched. Buildings. Businesses. People. He was the most feared man in Moscow. Even other bosses whispered his name with fear.
His compound was a fortress. Walls topped with razor wire. Guards with automatic weapons. Dogs trained to kill on command. I was brought to him in chains. His men captured me at the gate and dragged me through the compound like an animal.
Smoke sat on a throne made of scrap metal and leather. He was massive. Over two meters tall and built like a bear. His face was covered in burn scars from a fire that had killed his family when he was young.
"Nikolai Markov," he said. His voice sounded like gravel scraping against glass. "The great mafia lord. Look at you now. Crawling to me like a dog."
"I need your help."
"I know what you need. You lost your wife. Your men. Everything. And now you want me to save you."
"I am asking for an alliance. Not charity."
Smoke laughed. The sound echoed through the room like thunder. "An alliance? What do you have to offer me? No empire. No soldiers. No respect. You are a ghost begging for scraps."
"I know Volkov's weaknesses. I know how to destroy him."
"So do I. And I could destroy him myself if I wanted to. But why would I? He pays me well to leave him alone. He sends me tribute every month."
"One day he will come for you too. And when he does, you will have no allies left."
Smoke stood up. His shadow fell over me like a curtain of darkness. "Let me tell you something, Markov. I do not need allies. I do not need friends. I need only fear. And Volkov fears me. Just like you fear me."
He walked down from his throne and stood in front of me. His burned face was inches from mine. "But I will make you a deal. I will help you kill Volkov. But when it is done, you will work for me. You will be my servant. My dog. You will do whatever I say without question. For the rest of your life."
"No."
"Then you can die." Smoke snapped his fingers. His guards raised their guns and pointed them at my head.
"Wait," I said. My heart was pounding. "There has to be another way."
"There is no other way. Either you serve me or you die. Choose."
I looked at the guns. At the men holding them. At Smoke's burned face smiling down at me like a demon. I thought about Anya. About what Volkov was doing to her right now. About the basement and the chains and the darkness. I would serve a thousand devils if it meant saving her.
"I accept," I said.
Smoke's smile widened. "Good. Then we have a deal."
He gestured to his men and they lowered their guns. The chains were removed from my wrists.
"You work for me now, Markov. And the first thing you will do is prove your loyalty. There is a man. He betrayed me. Stole from me. I want you to find him and bring me his head. Literally. If you succeed, I will give you men and weapons to attack Volkov. If you fail, I will kill you myself."
"Who is the man?"
Smoke handed me a photograph. A young man with kind eyes and a gentle smile. "His name is Anton Petrov. He was my accountant. He took three million rubles and disappeared. Find him. Kill him. Bring me proof."
I looked at the photograph. At the innocent face staring back at me. This was what I had become. A killer for hire. A servant to monsters. All because I had failed to protect the woman I loved.
"I will do it," I said.
"Good." Smoke turned away. "You have one week. Do not disappoint me, Markov. I do not give second chances."
I left the compound with the photograph in my pocket and blood on my hands before I had even started. The city felt darker now. Colder. Like the sun had stopped shining and left only shadows behind.
I had allies now. Viktor Sokolov and Ivan Smoke. Men who would help me destroy Volkov. But the price was everything. My freedom. My soul. My humanity.
I did not care. None of it mattered without Anya. I would burn the whole world if it meant getting her back.