Page 82 of Bound in Possession

I will tear this entire estate to the ground with my bare hands if I have to. I am finding my wife, and I am bringing her home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CAMILLA

He’s here! Here’s here! I knew Maksim would find me, but to find me so quickly? My heart soars.

Outside the heavy wooden door, the world erupts into sheer, violent chaos.

The muffled pop of suppressed gunfire suddenly explodes into full-blown automatic war. Bullets chew through the structure below, the thunderous bass of heavy shotguns shaking the floorboards beneath my feet. Plaster dust trickles down from the ceiling like fine snow.

In an instant, Viktor's calm, sickeningly arrogant composure completely shatters.

He jumps at the first volley, his face turning a mottled, furious red as he paces the room like a rabid animal, swearing wildly in Russian. "Goddamn him! Goddamn that bastard to hell!" he roars, clutching his gun as the muffled thud of falling bodies echoes from the landing right outside.

The heavy oak door bursts open, and two of Viktor's men stumble into the room, their chests heaving, blood splattered across their tactical vests.

"Boss, we have to move!" one of them pants frantically, his eyes wide with panic. "There’s no way out! The Pakhan's men have surrounded the entire perimeter! They're wiping out our line—we can't hold the floor!"

Viktor stops dead in his tracks, his teeth grinding.

"Kill her!" the second guard barks, gesturing wildly toward me with his rifle. "Kill her now and let's cut through the back service stairs with the other women!”

"No!" Viktor snarls, rounding on the man with wild, unhinged eyes. "If I kill her like this, her death is useless! A wasted bullet! I don't just want her dead—I want to use her corpse to ruin Maksim! I want him to watch her breathe her last breath!"

While they scream and argue, caught in the blinding storm of their own panic, I don't sit helpless.

The guards are completely distracted, their backs half-turned to me as they watch the door. The rope binding my wrists behind the wooden chair was tied in a rush, and with every heavy explosion rattling the house, I've been relentlessly working my hands, twisting my skin against the coarse fibers.

With a hard, desperate yank, the slack gives. The coarse rope slips over my left wrist, scraping the skin raw, but I don't feel a thing. My hands are free.

I don't wait a single second.

I spring up from the chair like a coiled spring. Before the guard standing closest to my left can even turn his head, I throw my entire body weight into him, slamming my elbow straight into his throat. He gags, staggering back, and in one fluid, instinctive motion, I snatch the heavy black handgun tucked into his side holster.

"What the—" Viktor screams, turning toward me.

I flip the safety off and rack the slide, opening fire before they can react.

Bang! Bang!

The sharp, deafening cracks of the gun shatter the tight confines of the room. The guard I hit drops like a stone, and the second man dives behind a heavy mahogany desk as my bullets splinter the wood.

I roll behind a thick leather armchair, my heart pounding like a war drum against my ribs, smoke filling my lungs as I aim straight for Viktor. I am done being the prize, done being the bargaining chip. If Maksim is tearing this house apart from the outside, I am going to burn it down from the inside.

As I open fire on the remaining guards, a sudden, blinding agony explodes in my right shoulder from behind. The sheer force knocks the breath straight out of my lungs, crashing me hard against the hardwood floor. Pain flares white-hot down my spine, and the handgun goes flying from my slick grip, skidding uselessly out of reach.

I gasp, rolling onto my back just in time to see the guard who had snuck up behind me lower his boot.

Before I can recover, the heavy double doors burst wide open. Three more of Viktor’s men tumble into the room, covered in drywall dust and blood, their faces twisted in absolute terror.

"He's on the landing!" one of them screams over the deafening roar of automatic fire echoing down the hall. "The Pakhan breached the second floor! His men are clearing every room—he's right outside!"

The news hits Viktor like an electric shock. The realization that Maksim has completely breached his stronghold shatters whatever sanity he had left. He knows he's cornered. He knows he's lost the estate, but his twisted ego refuses to let Maksim win. He doesn't just want to survive; he wants to break Maksim completely. He wants a public victory before everything burns.

With a guttural, unhinged roar, Viktor lunges forward. He grabs me by the hair and the torn collar of my dress, violently yanking me off the floor.

"Get up!" he snarls, dragging me backward toward the open French doors that lead out to the second-floor balcony overlooking the estate below.