The elite believe their wealth can bury any secret—until the past crashes into their perfect world. 🥂🔥
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Chapter 8 / 15
Chapter 8: The Fixer's Trail
Chapter 8: The Fixer's Trail
Arthur’s cleaners worked fast. Led by a towering ex-Spetsnaz mercenary named Grigori, a heavily armed tactical team of six men tracked the thermal signature of Elara's getaway motorcycle down to the subway grates.
They descended the concrete stairs in perfect, lethal silence. Suppressed assault rifles raised, night-vision goggles glowing an eerie green in the subterranean dark.
Grigori signaled with his fist. The team stacked up against the rusty door of the maintenance room.
Three. Two. One.
They breached. The door flew off its hinges. The room was empty, save for a single laptop sitting on a barrel. The screen blinked with a bright red countdown timer.
May you like
00:01.
"Blyat," Grigori muttered.
