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A storm of bullets suddenly flew from the guards that had been accompanying Zakhar, and rained down on the guards that had been protecting the house. Sergei watched with big eyes, making not a single sound as his men were gunned down right in front of him. Zakhar merely stared down at Sergei, not watching the thirty or so men that he had employed be murdered on his own command. When all the men had fallen, Zakhar's men stopped the gunfire, and merely stood silently. Sergei tore his gaze away from the carnage and looked up at Zakhar.

  Korol, the fearsome Russian mafia lord, stared back at him. The man seemed ten feet tall as he stood, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. Korol raised his boot from Sergei's chest, and Sergei merely laid there, expecting a fate similar to all of the guards.

  "Sergei, you managed to capture one of the maids that had aided in Emilia's betrayal, yes?"

  Sergei turned to look at Korol, frowning in confusion. His leader had his back to him, and was straightening his leather jacket.

  "Y-yes, Korol." Sergei's voice was quiet as he answered back.

  "Good. Igor."

  One of Korol's bodyguards, a short, younger man with sharp features stepped forward in answer to his name.

  "Please ask the maid exactly what happened and what Emilia's plan is."

  Igor bowed, extracting black gloves from his pocket and sliding them on. He turned to Sergei, who flinched at the look from the younger man.

  "She's being kept in the tent over to the West." Sergei answered the unspoken question from the man, and he nodded, moving towards the specified direction.

  "Do you plan on laying on the ground forever, Sergei? We have matters to settle, and you desperately need a bath. You stink."

  Sergei stared with a slack jaw at his lord. Korol looked over his shoulder at Sergei, lifting a brow.

  "You're not going to kill me?"

  Korol sighed, long and loud.

  "No, Sergei, I'm not going to kill you yet. You're more scared of Emilia than you are of me, which poses a problem. But I think keeping you alive will be good bait for Emilia and her little friends. They'll want revenge eventually, and they're more likely to show themselves to me if I keep you alive and have you reinstated as a captain. You're my pawn. I'm not going to let anyone else utilize you unless I say so." Korol answered back matter-of-factly, shrugging.

  Korol waved to two guards who came forward and helped Sergei to his feet. Just as the captain got up, sputtering words of praise and thanks to Korol, an agonized scream pierced the air- long, agonizing and horrible. Similar screams followed, coming from the tent where Igor had gone to question the maid. This continued for over thirty minutes, while Korol gave orders to the guards to gather anything of need. Sergei was taken to a van, the other guards keeping themselves busy and gathering anything of note to take with them, while the terrible screaming filled the courtyard the entire time.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the screaming stopped abruptly. A few moments later, Igor exited the tent, his black attire spattered with blood. He walked casually back to Korol and the other bodyguards, stoically giving his report, though a sick glee was still evident in his eyes.

  "Emilia used Rohypnol to drug the guards, forced them to give false reports to the outside guards that she had escaped, then murdered them. It seems Emilia was the ultimate mastermind of the plan, and there are at least two of our own guards that assisted her. The maid didn't know Emilia's plans after the escape, though she did take all the prisoners that were locked in the basement with her, along with the doctor and the assistant. The doctor's assistant is the one who provided the drug, helped lace the food and drink with it, and helped the maids escape. The plan has been in motion for six months or so."

  Zakhar listened with his features an expressionless mask, and finally gave a nod.

  "Is the maid still alive?"

  Igor raised a brow to his lord.

  "Yes, though blood loss could prove a problem."

  Zakhar simply nodded again, and began to walk back to the vehicles lined up outside of the rubble of his manor.

  "Korol," His right-hand man, Alexei, began, whipping his tablet out from his suit jacket and typing with fast, precise movements. "I recommend moving operations to Moscow, to the manor there just outside the city. We will need a strong presence, and to show a unified, merciless front. Any sign of weakness and the other Pakhans will test us. We do not wish for a war at this stage, especially since our dealings with China are going so well."

  Zakhar grunted in the affirmative, and Alexei continued.

  "We will host a truce meeting in a few days’ time, inviting all our greatest allies and the new Chinese Triad heads, and affirm our relations. A swift show of power-"

  "Anna, has there been any word from Zane?" Zakhar interrupted, looking to the tall, lithe blonde woman who was said to be the greatest intel-gatherer in the entire spy network- and who now served as one of his personal bodyguards. She was dressed sharply in a fitted suit and heels. Her short hair was styled perfectly, and she whipped out her phone with swift movements, shaking her head in the negative.

  "Zane could not find any information on Emilia and the escaped prisoners. There have been no signs of them at any of the public airports, train or bus stations. He tracked them to a large cabin in the woods a few hours from here, but by the time he arrived, the cabin was burned to the ground with no evidence left behind. No additional information has surfaced."

  Zakhar clenched his teeth at that, though he kept his face expressionless. Fury rode him hard, and his body was exhausted from suppressing it.

  "Tell him to forego the search for now, and meet us in Moscow."

  "Yes, Korol." Anna said, tapping her phone quickly and efficiently.

  "As I was saying-" Alexei began again.

  "My lord!"

  Alexei exhaled sharply and turned with a vicious snarl to the captain approaching hurriedly from the front of the vehicles. The captain stopped in his tracks, looking at Alexei with unadulterated terror. Zakhar rolled his eyes at the ever-efficient Alexei and waved the guard forward.

  "I-I apologize, Alexei, sir, but this is urgent for Korol."

  "What is it, Paytor?" Zakhar asked, giving the captain a small nod.

  "A message, sir. It was left for you with one of the guards at the road, but…" The captain extended the folded note forward, and Zakhar's impassive mask cracked as he noted the writing on the front. He rushed forward, ripping the note from the captain's hands.

  "My lord, wait, it could be dangerous-" Lenora, his sniper, stepped forward, but Zakhar looked at her with a snarl that encompassed his entire face. She stopped, ceasing all movement. She watched Korol as an antelope would watch a crouching lion, and just waited for him to turn his gaze.

  Zakhar opened the note, and shook it for his bodyguards to see that there was no substance in it that would harm him. They all nodded, save Alexei who was watching him with a narrowed gaze. Zakhar's heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the curvy, familiar handwriting.

  "Go, all of you. I will join you in the car in a moment."

  All seven bodyguards nodded, and filed to the car. Alexei brought up the rear, glancing at the note a final time before leaving. Zakhar turned his back from the vehicles, all piled with his men and walked to the woods. He leaned his back against a tree as he opened the note and read.

  My dear Zakhar,

  I seem to recall a few words you forced me to say not too long ago.

  "Until death do us part."

  I guess you didn’t expect think I’d take those words so seriously.

  But I’ll see that vow through to the bitter end.

  Prepare for war, motherfucker.

  With all my deepest hatred,

  Emilia

  Zakhar stood motionless for ten minutes, reading and re-reading Emilia's letter over and over and over again. His lips suddenly began to curl into a grin, and deep, resounding laughter began to bubble to the surface. He suddenly threw his head back and roared with laughter, his face a mas
k of pure hatred and anticipation.

  "I love you so much, angel moy."

  He whispered the words, folding her note carefully and sliding it into his jacket. He walked to the car, a mad grin splitting his face. The captains and soldiers who saw it quivered in fear, and turned their faces away from their highly unhinged leader.

  Zakhar slid into the limo that had his seven bodyguards in it, and sat back against the seat, closing his eyes.

  "I take it you received good news then, my lord?" Lenora asked, tilting her stunning head at him. Zakhar opened his eyes and looked to her, the same mad grin on his face. A chill ran down the Mexican woman's spine at the sight, though she tried to keep a stoic expression.

  "Alexei." Zakhar spoke to the man driving the limo. "We will host our Triad allies, and let us extend our welcome to our Japanese and Italian brethren, as well. I want our strongest and most formidable allies to be in attendance with the other Pakhans to show them the extent of my power."

  Alexei raised a brow in the rearview mirror, but nodded his approval.

  "What of Miss Fox, my lord?" Niko, the handsome, blonde Swiss man who had been the protege of D'yavol, asked, cleaning his pistol casually.

  "Do you think she's going back to her home?" This question was posed by the hulking blonde Russian, Ivan, whose voice rumbled inside the limo.

  "She's not returning home, no." Zakhar's smile grew wider and he chuckled low and menacingly.

  "She will show us soon enough what she has up her sleeve. I do know that she is going to try and challenge me."

  Igor gave a chuckle at that, lifting a sardonic brow at his master.

  "How does one girl plan on challenging the most powerful mafia boss in the world?"

  Zakhar's smile disappeared and he looked sharply at the shorter man. Igor looked down, bowing his head in apology.

  "She is one girl who managed to burn the most powerful mafia leader's house to the ground and escape with all of his prisoners in one night. Anna." Zakhar addressed the blonde woman again, who whipped out her phone, waiting for her orders.

  "Find all of the information on Emilia Fox's background that you can. There is something we missed, and I need to know what it is. Go back to juvenile records, there must be something in her past that we couldn’t see from her generic file before."

  Anna nodded, typing on her phone furiously.

  "We cannot afford to underestimate Emilia Fox again. We will forge whatever alliances we must, and gain more power and influence to smoke her out of hiding. In the meantime, we prepare for war and wait for her to make her next move."

  The bodyguards all nodded, each one delving into thought on Korol's former woman.

  Zakhar leaned back, shutting his eyes, and an image of Emilia's bright, beautiful face arose in his mind. His hand slowly closed into a fist and his sneer turned into a snarl.

  Neither of us shall die any time soon, my love.

  But I will have such joy making you wish you were dead for the rest of our lives.

  Angel moy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Community Cards

  Three years later

  Island of Lesbos, at what the locals fondly refer to as "To Treló Paláti"

  Translation: The Crazy Palace

  Emilia

  "GET BACK HERE, FOX!"

  I was breathing heavily as my recently cut hair whipped around my face. Running at full speed through the extravagant mansion we had settled in, I dashed to the doors of the front parlor, and ripped them open with all my strength.

  "Oi!" Kiernan yelped, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation, along with the four other Irishmen that were currently gambling around the table at the center of the room. They admonished me in their thick accents, and I flipped them all off.

  "Aren't you supposed to be training with Masamune and the Usami sisters right now?" I panted out, putting my hands on my hips and scowling at them.

  "We were gettin' there, Foxy. I swear, we were only finishing up one more game." Kiernan replied sheepishly, the four men agreeing loudly.

  "Oi, and aren't ye supposed ta be somewhere too, Foxy girl?" Connor, the youngest Irishman said, rolling his eyes at me.

  "I'm the boss. I can do whatever my heart desires, you little shit." I spat back at him.

  "EMILIA!"

  At the exasperated yell that was swiftly coming down the stairs, I jumped, running back through the doors. I heard the Irishmen all bellow in laughter, and made a mental note to kick their asses in combat training later.

  I made a mad dash again for the front door, and saw the man bounding down the stairs, chasing me. I yelped, detouring and dashing down the hallway leading to the kitchen. I burst through the doors, looking around frantically.

  "Really, shef?" Jazz asked me, calling me "chief" in Albanian. I stared at her for a moment, tilting my head. The stove looked like a pasta sauce disaster had occurred, and seven bowls lined the counter, flour and who knew what else spread out all over the large island in the center of the kitchen.

  "Jazz, for fuck's sake, you can not cook!" I stomped my foot in exasperation, throwing my arms up.

  The small Albanian woman screwed up her face in a snarl, though the cook, Maya, a beautiful refugee we had taken in and hired, nodded emphatically behind her. Jazz's eyes suddenly filled with tears and she flung her small body down on the island, wailing.

  "YOU ARE SO MEAN!" She wailed, crying loudly. Maya patted her back, muttering soothing words to her, even as her face reflected relief at the clearly overdue reality check.

  "Emilia Fox, when I catch you, I am going to beat you senseless!"

  At the roar that was hurriedly headed toward me, I bolted again, dashing through the side door that led outside. I heard Jazz's wails slowly dimming as I ran, dashing across the side of the yard where I heard swords clashing. Running towards the front of the house, I rounded the corner and saw Masamune, shirtless, clashing swords with two small Japanese women. Their movements were beautiful in their deadly precision as they fought, none of them giving an inch. The two women were trying to decapitate the former Japanese yakuza member, and they were gaining ground.

  "Yo! I told you not to use real swords when you fight for real. Seriously!" I yelled, rolling my eyes.

  The two women stopped immediately, jumping away from their prey. They were all panting as they bowed to me, though Masamune barely inclined his waist. I licked my lips as I watched the sweat roll down his toned chest, and he saw the movement immediately.

  Grinning, the gorgeous Japanese man sheathed his sword, and winked at me.

  "Kitsune-san, would you like to practice under me somewhere private?"

  "Do not offer sexual services to Oneesama." Misaki Usami, the eldest sister said in exasperation, barely panting.

  "Oneesama and Oniisama should get married." The younger sister, Mari Usami, said stoically, nodding. The respectful Japanese words that translated to “big brother” and “big sister” were referring to Masamune and me.

  "Mari, you're so funny." I laughed loudly to cover my embarrassment, a blush spreading across my cheeks.

  "I do not think so, Oneesama. Am I funny, Misaki?" Mari turned to her sister, never changing expression.

  "No, Mari, you do not have a sense of humor." Misaki said, exhaling.

  "Oh." Mari shrugged, sheathing her sword. "That's too bad. I should work on that."

  "EMILIA FOX!" At the shout coming from around the side of the house, I bolted again, running full force towards the guest house located on the opposite side of the mansion.

  "Again, Oneesama?" The Usami sisters asked in unison, both shaking their heads.

  I heard Masamune's laughter and vowed to beat his ass in combat training later, as well.

  No fucking respect. These dicks.

  Rounding the side of the house, I made my way swiftly to the pool that was situated right by the guest house. Meiling was there in a red swimsuit that barely covered her breasts and nether regions. Fritz sat beside her, in a pai
r of swim trunks and nothing else, cleaning a Grossfuss Sturmgewehr assault rifle, humming to himself.

  I hurriedly stopped myself right before I launched into the pool, turning to the pair that had been together more often than not since our arrival to the island.

  "Oh, Zhǔzi, you doing some running drills or something?" Meiling asked, calling me the Chinese word for master, not even bothering to remove her sunglasses or move an inch.

  "I told you not to call me that, chāngfù." I panted out, calling her the Chinese word for bitch.

  "You almost say that correct but your accent hurt my ears. Don't speak Chinese ever again. You terrible." Meiling said scathingly, but I saw the small smile that formed across her lips.

  Fritz nodded to me, then commenced with cleaning his gun.

  "Listen, bit-"

  "EMILIA. FOX." I heard the highly irritated yell once again, and flinched.

  Meiling took off her sunglasses and Fritz looked up, both speaking at the same time.

  "Again?"

  "Shut up!" I yelled, already running again, this time going around the guest house. I bolted behind that and made my way to the back yard, where I saw freedom within my grasp. A huge smile adorning my face, I ran at full speed, pumping my arms to accelerate faster.

  "Run, Emmy, run!"

  "Fly, princesa!"

  The excited yells came from the patio on the opposite side of the yard, and I waved my hand at the beautiful African girl and Mexican boy waving their arms at me frantically. I saw Roy trying to calm the two down, since they were right in the middle of an Algebra lesson. He threw his hands in the air, shaking a fist at me.

  I waved back, laughing at their antics.

  "I'VE GOT HER!"

  At the yell right next to my ear, I screeched, skidding to a halt, and twisted my body sharply to the right. I watched as Cin flew past me, shirtless as usual, and slammed face first into the grass. I kicked dirt at him, bolting around him as fast as I could before he could regain his footing. I knew the deadly man was already back on his feet as I heard him yelling behind me.

  "Don't you dare, Emilia Fox!"

  At the roar from Cin and the beautiful blonde Frenchman that had been chasing me all over, I leapt through the air, giving an exaggerated salute, and watched as the ground vanished from under me. I screamed in pure bliss as I flew through the air, pumping my arms and legs to get further projectory over the side of the cliff that our mansion was situated on.