Chapter 26
The transition from the opulent, crowded ballroom to the soundproof, mahogany-paneled study was a journey from a sophisticated party into a lethal trap. Markov and his three bodyguards walked into the room, expecting a tense negotiation. They were profoundly mistaken.
As soon as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, the illusion of diplomacy vanished. Silas and Dante, Kieran’s most lethal capos, stepped out from behind the heavy silk curtains, their suppressed automatic weapons raised and aimed directly at the Russian bodyguards.
"Drop your weapons," Silas commanded, his American accent crisp and absolute.
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The Russian guards hesitated for a fraction of a second. Kieran moved with explosive, blinding speed. He closed the distance to Markov, grabbed the heavy lapels of the Russian’s suit, and hurled the massive man violently across the room. Markov crashed into the heavy wooden desk, shattering a crystal decanter. The Russian bodyguards instantly surrendered, dropping their handguns onto the thick Persian rug.
Kieran stood over the groaning Russian boss, his tailored tuxedo completely unhindered by the exertion. "Did you truly believe you could walk into my home and use my wife's name to launder your filthy assets?" Kieran whispered, his voice a vibrating hum of absolute danger.
