Chapter 25

The impact sent the cigar flying, and Balenko grunted, his head hitting the marble. Dante's grip tightened around his throat.

"You should've stayed in whatever fucking hole Petrova pulled you from," Dante hissed.

Balenko choked out a laugh. "And you should've pulled the trigger already. Or are you hesitating?"

Dante's gun pressed harder against Balenko's ribs.

"Give me one reason," Dante said slowly, "not to end you right now."

Balenko's lips curled in a smirk. "Because I'm not done playing yet."

Dante was very aware of the fight now going on between Balenko's guards and his gang members, but he wasn't prepared for what Balenko did.

Balenko's knee shot up, slamming into Dante's stomach. The moment Dante's grip loosened, Balenko grabbed the nearest whiskey bottle and smashed it against Dante's side.

Dante staggered back, pain slicing through him.

Before he could recover, Balenko tossed something at his feet. A flashbang grenade.

BOOM.

Blinding light. Deafening sound. Dante cursed, shielding his eyes. Why did the tables have to turn so fast?

By the time his vision cleared, Balenko was already moving for the fire escape.

Dante couldn't bear the thought of him getting away once more, so he fired.

The bullet caught Balenko in the shoulder, sending him crashing into the window frame. Blood splattered against the glass, but Balenko didn't stop.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. Stopping meant death, and Dante was not the one who would kill him. With a grunt, he leapt onto the fire escape.

Dante growled in frustration. He could chase him—but more noise erupted downstairs. His men needed him.

He shook his head, deciding that for once he would go after this man.

"All of you," he roared, turning to face those with him, "join the ones downstairs as reinforcement!"

As they began to leave, he ran towards the fire escape too. But he knew long before he got down that he would not find Gregor Balenko. The man was gone, as he always managed to be.

\---

Dante sat behind his desk, swirling the bourbon in his glass. He needed something stronger than coffee to face this bullshit. The hotel had been secured overnight, but the damage was substantial. Castlemine wasn't burned to the ground, but it might as well have been.

This was out of hand now. Dante was just realizing that throughout the time that Petrova started these attacks, he hasn't launched a single one against him.

Well, that was about to change. Damn whatever strength Petrova had, damn the probability that his attacking would be an expected response. It was time that he had a taste of his own medicine.

Before he could start planning that, he had a meeting with his top legal advisor, Vincent.

Vincent sat across from him. He had just finished giving the details of the current legal situation. "Caius is pushing for an investigation into the Castlemine, especially after the incident that happened."

"He caused that incident," Dante gritted his teeth.

"Yes, but the agencies don't know that. He's trying to paint it as an illegal operation so that they would investigate not from the view of finding out what happened and a solution for you, but from the view of implicating the business."

"If this happens, you could be stripped of your licenses."

Dante slammed his glass on the table. "Fuck!"

Right now, he had other things to bother about than launching an attack on Petrova. Why was the man always one step ahead?

"I need names," Dante ground out. "I need people on his inside. Where the hell is Sasha?"

Vincent hesitated. "Dante, that'll take time. Right now, we need to focus on damage control—"

"No." Dante's voice was sharp as a blade. "What we need is to remind Petrova that he doesn't get to dictate the rules of this fucking game."

In one swift motion, he grabbed the nearest object—a whiskey decanter—and hurled it against the wall.

Glass shattered violently, shards raining down onto the floor. Vincent flinched, shocked to see Dante lose control.

Dante's chest rose and fell heavily, his fists clenched at his sides. Tossing that thing wasn't enough. He wanted to just kill Petrova.

There was a quiet gasp from the doorway, and Dante whipped around.

Kaela stood just outside the door, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted in shock.