Read Chapter 33: The Final Face-Off

The back office smelled of leather and fear. Viktor sat behind his desk like a king holding court, a thin smile playing across his lips as Alex pushed through the door. Two guards flanked the exit, but Viktor waved them off with a lazy flick of his wrist.

“Alexandre.” Viktor’s voice was silk wrapped around gravel. “I wondered when you’d come to your senses.”

Alex let the door click shut behind him. His shoulder throbbed beneath the fresh stitches, a dull reminder of every debt he’d carried into this room. “You knew I’d come.”

“Of course.” Viktor gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit. We’re both reasonable men. We can resolve this without theatrics.”

Alex didn’t sit. He moved to the window, scanning the casino floor below through the one-way glass. The cameras still played their loop. The crowd still pulsed with Grand Prix fever, oblivious to the war being waged above their heads. “You had Jules in a hold. You had my mother. You had everything, Viktor. And you still couldn’t close the deal.”

Viktor’s smile didn’t waver. “That’s what I admire about you, Alex. You always saw the game for what it is. So let’s not pretend this is about family. This is about money. Real money.”

He slid a tablet across the desk. The screen glowed with figures—accounts, wire transfers, shell companies. Numbers that made Alex’s heart stutter.

“The settlement system is a drop in the ocean,” Viktor said. “That’s the whole point of laundering through the Torrini front. The real capital flows through channels you haven’t even touched. I’m offering you a split. Forty percent. Enough to clear your debt, vanish anywhere on earth, and never look back.”

Alex studied the numbers. They were real. He knew Viktor well enough to recognize when he was lying, and this was the closest to truth the man ever came.

“And my mother?”

Viktor’s smile thinned. “She’s comfortable. Well-fed. Unharmed. You have my word.”

“Your word.” Alex almost laughed. “You sold my debt to the syndicate the day I walked out of your employment. You took my mother to ensure I’d never walk away. And you think I’d trust your word now?”

“I think you’d trust survival.” Viktor leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Zoe’s already moved the two-point-four million. My forensic team will trace it by morning. The drive Ostrowski carries could end me—or it could make us both very rich. And your mother? She stays where she is until the deal is done. Then you take her. We part ways. Neither of us ever sees the other again.”

Alex processed the offer. Clean. Practical. The kind of exit he’d dreamed about for years.

“No.”

Viktor’s brows rose. “No?”

“No deal. No split. No partnership.” Alex’s voice was flat, final. “You took everything from me. My career. My name. My mother. You turned me into a ghost in my own city, and you think I’ll settle for forty percent of your stolen empire?”

“Then what will you do, Alexandre? Kill me? The syndicate would hunt you for the rest of your life. Expose me? You’d need Ostrowski’s drive, and he’s vanished. And your mother—” Viktor opened his hands, a gesture of pure condescension. “She dies with me if I fall.”

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” Alex reached beneath his jacket. Viktor’s guards tensed, hands moving toward holsters, but Alex only produced a small flash drive. He tossed it onto the desk. “I’ll make sure you burn.”

Viktor’s eyes flicked to the drive. “What is that?”

“Everything Zoe pulled from your network before your lockdown. Names. Accounts. The full ledger of what you’ve laundered through Torrini for the past eight years. Already uploaded to the casino’s broadcast system—timed to air during tomorrow’s race.” Alex let the silence stretch. “Your sponsorship becomes your funeral. Every investor. Every partner. Every syndicate cell that used you as a conduit goes down with you.”

Viktor’s composure cracked. His jaw tightened, the first genuine emotion Alex had ever seen on the man’s face. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Alex stepped closer, planting both hands on the desk. “Zoe’s already seeded the broadcast. You locked down the casino to stop an intrusion that was never there. You’re so busy protecting your kingdom that you forgot to watch the walls.”

For a heartbeat, Viktor was a statue. Then he moved.

Fast. Far faster than a man his age should have been. His hand shot beneath the desk—and Alex threw himself forward, catching Viktor’s wrist before the panic button could be pressed. They crashed against the desk, the tablet clattering to the floor, the flash drive skittering across the marble. Viktor’s elbow caught Alex’s temple. Pain exploded white behind his eyes, but he didn’t let go. He drove Viktor’s hand into the desk edge, once, twice, until Viktor grunted and went slack.

Behind them, the door burst open. Guards poured in.

Viktor ripped free, lunging for the flash drive. His fingers closed around it an instant before Alex tackled him again. They went down in a heap, Viktor’s shoulder slamming into the chair’s armrest. Alex heard something tear in his own shoulder—fresh blood soaking through the bandage, hot and wet against his shirt—but he held on, driving Viktor’s wrist into the floor until the man cried out and the drive clattered away.

Boots surrounded them. Hands grabbed Alex, hauling him off Viktor, slamming him against the wall. His vision swam. Through the haze, he saw Viktor rise, blood trickling from his nose, a wild fury in his eyes.

“Kill him.” Viktor’s voice was ragged. “Do it now.”

Alex’s vision started to go. The guards’ grips tightened. But his hand found the edge of his jacket pocket and curled around the one thing Zoe had given him before he walked through that door. A locator chip. He crushed it between his fingers.

Fifty seconds. That was all the time she needed.

He smiled at Viktor through the blood in his mouth. “Check your accounts. Right now.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed. Then he reached for his own terminal. His face went ashen.

Alex’s smile widened. “You should have taken the deal.”