Adrian’s legs moved fast below him over the slippery floor of an abandoned building, the metallic scent of blood in the air as he runs whilst simultaneously thinks of a way to get rid of this problem.

The Pakhan of the Bratva, Kirill Morozov has been captured and Adrian finds himself at a loss, this is the first time in the decade that he has had the Obschak title, ‘the strategist’, that he didn’t see something coming, or didn’t prepare for it.

The Italians play dirty, and whoever this gang is, the Bratva seriously underestimated them. They seem to have known their plans, their operation location, when to strike.

He runs into a room on the highest floor, which is when he realizes this building is a developmental property for apartments, and this is the penthouse, meaning he’d have to go back down into the war to escape, but he’s bleeding from his abdomen, his head is spinning, he needs to call for backup because Bratva men are injured, and his carefully crafted control has snapped. he needs to regain that before he can go out there, because if even the strategist can’t think straight, the Bratva will be over.

But then, the sound of heels on the concrete floor, the scent of cigarettes and perfume. his hand instinctively reaches for his gun, pointing it in all directions.