Page 85 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

But Igor isn’t just any mafia boss; he’s my husband.

“We’re going in,” Igor growls.

Through the audio feed, there’s a sudden, violent burst of suppressed gunfire, followed by loud male voices and the heavy drop of what I immediately assume to be bodies hitting the floor.

I grip my chest, living vicariously through my husband as he barks orders in fluent Russian. When the noise grows too loud, I shift the headset off one ear, hoping it tones down the violence.

After a brief moment, the shouting ceases.

It’s a swift and controlled execution.

A hot wave of fierce pride washes over the cold knot in my stomach. Igor isn’t exposing me to Serrano’s sightline. He trusted my intel implicitly, and he used it to keep me entirely shielded.

Suddenly, a heavy metal door screeches open over the comms, and someone shouts loudly in Spanish.

I instantly recognize Serrano’s brittle voice, sharpened with venom.

“Back off! Step back, you Russian bastards, or I’ll paint this room with his brains!”

Through the live audio, I can hear the sound of boots scraping against the floor. Serrano is dragging someone out of the inner room, and I know it’s his captive.

My fingers dig into the edges of the tablet. “Simon,” I whisper under my breath.

“Look at him, Igor!” Serrano taunts, his laugh jagged and unhinged like a madman’s.

I’m not there, and the tablet only offers a limited view of what’s going on inside, but I can picture it perfectly: Serrano’s gun pressed hard against Simon’s temple, using him as a human shield, completely unaware that I’m listening to every single breath through the open comms line.

“You think you’re a god in this city? Untouchable? Invincible? I hate to break it to you, but you’re nothing! I’m here now. I run things now. You’re fucking chaff, just like Joaquin was. And I swear to God, if you move an inch, your boy dies.”

Igor doesn’t raise his voice.

When he speaks, his tone is a terrifying, flat line. “You have no cards left to play, Serrano. This is the end of the road for you. Look around.”

“I have the only card that matters!” Serrano screeches. “The boy!”

I watch the thermal feed intently.

Igor isn’t just talking; he’s stalling. His heat signature is shifting, inch by inch, sliding laterally along the concrete wall while Serrano focuses entirely on the men in front of him. Igor angles his body, waiting for the exact millisecond Serrano’s posture shifts enough to clear Simon’s head.

“There’s no way out of this for you.” Igor’s tone drops an octave, drawing Serrano’s attention right to him. “We both know you die tonight. The only question is how much it hurts.”

“You think you can—”

Bang!

A single, unsuppressed gunshot resounds through the comms, deafeningly loud.

My hand flies to my mouth, stifling a gasp, while my heart thrums in my ears as a heavy, wet thud follows, accompanied by the faint clatter of a dropped weapon.

“Let’s head back.” Igor’s voice cuts through the sudden silence, devoid of emotion but radiating absolute finality. “Sergei, throw him where no one will find him for the next few years.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and my shoulders sag in relief.

Serrano is dead.

Igor has ended this, securing my brother like he promised, proving what I already knew to my core.

No one harms Igor’s family.