Elijah’s POV

Elijah sat at his desk, his fingers tapping absently against the wood. His office was dimly lit, the glow from his computer screen casting eerie shadows across the room. He had spent the last three nights piecing together every bit of intel he had gathered on Mikhail. Where he moved, who he met, how he operated.

And finally, he had it.

Mikhail was planning to move locations. A small window of opportunity, one moment where he would be exposed—unguarded enough for Elijah to strike.

His grip tightened around his phone as he stared at the message he had received from an informant.

Tomorrow. Midnight. Safehouse outside the city.

This was it. His chance.

Taking a deep breath, Elijah opened his laptop and drafted a leave request. Three days off, personal reasons. He sent it without hesitation. He wouldn’t need three days. He only needed one. Either Mikhail died that night… or he did.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaustion creeping in, but he shoved it aside. There was no room for doubt. No hesitation. This was the only way to keep Valarie safe.

Because as long as Mikhail was alive, she would never be free.

Later—Valarie’s office room

Valarie arched an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. “You? Taking a vacation? That’s new.”

Elijah forced a smile. “It’s not a vacation. My cousin’s been bothering me to visit him for months. Figured now’s a good time.”

She narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical. “Your cousin? Since when do you even talk about family?”

He shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “I do when they nag me twenty-four seven.”

Valarie studied him for a long moment. “You’re hiding something.”

His heart pounded, but he kept his face unreadable. “Not everything is a secret mission, Officer Ivanov.”

She huffed. “Fine. But if I find out you’re lying, I swear I’ll—”

He smirked, cutting her off. “What? Arrest me?”

Valarie rolled her eyes. “No. Just kick your ass.”

Elijah chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll be back in a few days..”

She scoffed but didn’t push further.

Good.

Because if she knew what he was really planning… she would never forgive him.

******

The night was thick with silence. The safehouse stood in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but darkness and the distant hum of crickets. Elijah crouched behind an abandoned truck, gripping his gun tightly. His pulse was steady, his breathing controlled. He had done this a hundred times before.

But this time, it was different.

This wasn’t just another mission. It wasn’t about duty or justice. It was about her.

For Valarie.

He had mapped out Mikhail’s movements, watched his men come and go. There were ten guards. That was nothing. He had taken down more before. His plan was simple—kill the guards first, then put a bullet between Mikhail’s eyes before the bastard even knew what hit him.

Elijah moved like a shadow, silent and deadly. The first guard didn’t even have a chance to react before Elijah’s knife sliced across his throat. He went down soundlessly. One down.

He stayed low, weaving between crates and trucks, taking them down one by one. A suppressed gunshot. A blade to the ribs. A snapped neck. By the time he reached the last two, the ground was slick with blood.

Eight men. Dead.

He could hear Mikhail inside, speaking on the phone, completely unaware that his security had just been wiped out.

Elijah’s lips curled into a grim smirk.

It’s over, you bastard.

He kicked open the door.

Mikhail turned, his expression flickering from irritation to amusement in the span of a second.

“Well, well,” Mikhail drawled, leaning back against his desk, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. “If it isn’t Valarie’s little lapdog.”

Elijah raised his gun. “Say your last words, Mikhail.”

Mikhail smirked. Smirked. Like this was funny to him.

That’s when Elijah heard it.

The subtle shift of movement behind him.

Shit.

Before he could react, arms locked around him from behind. A sharp jab of something cold against his neck—

Pain. Burning, searing pain.

His vision blurred. His knees buckled.

The gun slipped from his grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Mikhail sighed, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk. Did you really think I wouldn’t expect you?” He crouched beside Elijah’s falling body, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head up. “You’re bold, Carter, I’ll give you that.”

Elijah’s body was betraying him, muscles going limp, mind hazy. His breath came in ragged gasps.

The bastard had drugged him.

“You killed eight of my important men,” Mikhail mused, almost impressed. He leaned in, his voice a cruel whisper. “But that was a mistake. Because now… I get to have fun.”

Elijah tried to move. Tried to fight.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

*******