Chapter 8 - The True Enemy
I dropped to my knees beside Chloe.
She was coughing violently, her breathing shallow and ragged.
I pressed my left hand against her wound to stop the bleeding.
She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.
She laughed weakly, blood bubbling at the corner of her mouth.
She whispered that Derek was too much of a coward to do this to her.
She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a silver flash drive.
She pressed it firmly into my palm.
Chloe warned me that my husband was just a pathetic pawn on a very large board.
Before I could ask her what she meant, her eyes rolled back and she went completely still.
Suddenly, the harsh screech of a megaphone echoed through the station.
Powerful floodlights snapped on, blinding us completely.
Adrian pulled me up and pushed me behind his broad shoulders.
Dozens of heavily armed men stepped out from the train tunnels.
They were not wearing cheap suits like Derek’s hired thugs.
They were wearing military-grade tactical gear.
Adrian cursed under his breath.
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He recognized the tattoos on the men’s hands.
They belonged to the Russian Bratva, the most violent rival syndicate in the city.
