Chapter 72 Repercussions

Chapter 72 Repercussions
Aleksander’s POV

The sun began to peak over the horizon as we sped down I-26 towards the I-526 interchange that would lead us towards Folly Beach. We would arrive in about thirty-five to forty minutes, depending on whether we hit Charleston’s notorious Monday morning traffic. The last time I’d been here, I swore I’d never come on a weekday, but here we are.

Mercy is optional, retribution is not.

The words didn’t echo. They settled.

Ivan didn’t speak as he drove, and I didn’t need him to. The hum of the engine, the low roll of tires against asphalt—it all blurred into something steady. Controlled.

Like the calm right before something breaks.

Charleston started to wake up around us the closer we got. More cars. More movement. People heading to jobs, coffee shops, routines that didn’t involve blood or betrayal.

Must be nice.

Ivan finally slowed, turning off the main road and onto a quieter side street lined with older buildings and overgrown palms. The resort was still a couple blocks out—visible just above the skyline, glass catching the early sun.

He didn’t pull into it.

Instead, he parked.

Two blocks out.

Engine cut.

Silence filled the SUV.

I didn’t move right away.

Neither did he.

Then Ivan reached into the backseat and pulled a slim black case forward, flipping it open with practiced ease. Inside sat a compact laptop, already worn at the edges.

He set it on his lap, fingers already moving before the screen fully lit.

“This’ll take a minute,” he muttered.

I leaned back slightly, watching the street through the tinted windows. A woman walked her dog past the car without a second glance. A cyclist rolled by. Somewhere, a car door slammed.

Normal.

All of it.

Behind me, the faint clicking of keys started—fast, precise, relentless.

Ivan’s world now.

“What do you need?” I asked without looking back.

“Access point first,” he said. “Hotel runs a closed network for security feeds. Gotta piggyback through their guest Wi-Fi, then jump layers.”

I didn’t respond.

Didn’t need to understand it.

Just needed him to do it.

The seconds stretched.

Then minutes.

Long enough for impatience to start scratching at the edges of my skull.

I checked my watch.

Still early.

Still quiet.

Too quiet.

“You in yet?” I asked.

“Working on it.”

His tone hadn’t changed—but his shoulders had. Slightly tighter. Focused.

A beat passed.

Then—

“I’m in the outer layer.”

I turned my head slightly, glancing back.

Lines of code reflected faintly in his eyes. His fingers didn’t stop moving.

“Security feed’s segmented. They’ve got redundancies.”

“Can you loop it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But not clean. I can give us a window. Eight, maybe ten minutes before it flags.”

“That’s all we need.”

He nodded once, barely.

More typing.

Faster now.

Then—

“Got it.”

His fingers paused for the first time.

“Top floor hallway, main elevator, service corridor… all on a loop.”

He looked up at me finally.

“Clock starts when we move.”

Good.

I opened the door.

Heat hit immediately, thicker now that the sun had climbed higher.

Ivan shut the laptop, sliding it back into the case before stepping out behind me.

“Two blocks,” he said. “We walk from here.”

“Fine.”

The resort loomed ahead, all glass and clean lines, pretending to be something peaceful.

I adjusted my jacket slightly as we moved, keeping our pace steady—not rushed, not slow.

Just… another pair of men heading somewhere they belonged.

That was the trick.

Never look like you don’t belong.

The valet barely glanced at us.

Front doors opened.

Cold air wrapped around us instantly.

Lobby was exactly what you’d expect—marble floors, soft lighting, quiet conversations. A woman behind the desk smiled at someone checking out. A couple argued in hushed tones near the elevators.

No one looked at us twice.

We didn’t give them a reason to.

Ivan leaned slightly closer as we walked.

“Eight minutes,” he murmured.

“Plenty.”

Elevator doors opened without delay.

We stepped inside.

Top floor.

The ride up felt slower than it should’ve.

Or maybe I was just ready for it to be over.

Ding.

Doors opened.

Silence.

Different from downstairs.

Thicker.

Private.

We stepped out, moving down the hall without hesitation. Carpet muted our footsteps. The air smelled clean, expensive, untouched.

Penthouse sat at the end.

Double doors.

No movement.

No sound.

I stopped just short of it.

Listened.

Nothing.

I reached for the handle.

Unlocked.

I pushed it open.

The suite was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sunlight poured through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. A glass sat on the table. Whiskey. Bottle open.

Fresh.

“He’s here,” Ivan said quietly.

Or was.

A sound.

Soft.

From deeper inside.

We both moved.

Fast.

Bedroom—empty.

Bathroom—empty.

Closet—clear.

Then—

The balcony.

Open.

Curtains shifting.

I stepped out—

Just in time to see him climbing over the railing toward the exterior fire stairs.

Running.

I exhaled slowly.

“He heard us.”

Ivan’s jaw tightened.

“Fuck.”

I turned toward the stairwell.

“Let’s not keep him waiting.”