Chapter 14 - The Queen's MoveDmitri’s eyes widened in sudden panic. He raised his weapon toward her chest. "Shut up! On your knees!"
Before he could take a step, Victoria pressed a tiny brass button embedded inside her signet ring.
The heavy acoustic ceiling panels above the lounge collapsed inward. Two elite Pembroke operatives dropped silently onto the marble floor, disarming the two side guards with lethal, lightning-fast precision before they could even draw their weapons.
Dmitri spun around in terror, but Victoria stepped directly into his path.
In a movement taught to her by Marcus over two years of relentless training, Victoria gripped Dmitri's wrist, twisting the gun barrel upward while driving her elbow hard into his windpipe. The weapon clattered onto the floor as Dmitri stumbled back, gasping for air.
Marcus stepped out from behind a heavy velvet curtain, holding a high-caliber sidearm pointed straight at Dmitri's forehead.
"Not bad, sister," Marcus said with a faint nod. "Your wrist rotation was a little slow, but the elbow was crisp."
Victoria adjusted the cuffs of her burgundy gown, completely unfazed. "I'm improving."
Julian walked into the room holding a satellite phone, tossing it onto the table in front of the wheezing enforcer.
"Call Victor," Victoria commanded the man on the floor, her voice dropping into a tone that echoed her eldest brother’s ruthless authority. "Tell him his operation is dead. And tell him I am coming for everything he owns."
When Dmitri frantically dialed his boss and held out the speakerphone, Victor’s arrogant, rasping voice filled the room: "Dmitri? Is it done? Do you have the woman?"
May you like
Victoria picked up the phone.
"Hello, Victor," Victoria said, her voice dropping like an anvil. "Your brother Alistair made the mistake of thinking I was weak. You made the mistake of thinking I was just a victim. By tomorrow morning, your syndicate won't exist."
