Chapter 4 - THE RESURRECTION OF SARAHMy mind went completely blank. For three seconds, the universe stopped spinning.
"Sarah..." The name scraped out of my throat like dry sandpaper. "No. That's impossible. I buried you. I stood at your grave. I watched the casket go down."
Sarah chuckled—a dry, brittle sound that sent shivers down my spine. She pulled her hands out of her pockets. Her fingers were gloved in black leather, and in her right hand, she held a sleek, titanium-framed tablet.
"You buried an empty box, big brother," she said, stepping closer, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete. "Standard procedure in our line of work when you need to disappear from the world and let your enemies think you're safely out of the game. Of course, I didn't expect you to mourn quite so dramatically. Though the black suit did suit you."
"You let me think you were dead," I said, every muscle in my body locking up. The betrayal by Marco felt like a papercut compared to this. This was a knife twisted directly into my ribs by my own flesh and blood. "For five years, I hunted the men who supposedly killed you. I tore through half of New Jersey looking for ghosts. And all the while... it was you?"
"I didn't start the fire, Viktor," she said smoothly, stopping ten feet away. "I just watched it burn from a very comfortable distance. Until recently."
"Until little Elena Vasquez walked into Warehouse 4," I finished, the puzzle pieces slamming violently into place in my head.
Sarah’s expression tightened just a fraction. A tiny crack in her otherwise flawless composure.
"The girl was a liability," Sarah said, her voice turning clinical. "She didn't just see the cargo. She saw me. She saw who was meeting with the buyers. Marco was just managing the logistics on the ground; I was the one cutting the deal with the government officials who wanted to pad their retirement funds."
"You," I whispered, stepping forward. "You're running the stolen military tech pipeline. You're the one dealing with the federal rats."
"Someone has to keep the empire modern, Viktor," she said, spreading her arms wide. "You're getting soft. You're getting sentimental. Planting flowers, forgiving debts for small-time diner owners, getting attached to stray dogs—"
"Bruno isn't a stray," I snarled, my hand tightening around the grip of my gun. "And he's a damn sight more loyal than you ever were."
Sarah smiled coldly. "Oh, I know all about your dog. That's why I had to make sure he was out of the way when we cleaned up loose ends at the docks. Unfortunately, dogs have better noses than capos. The second Bruno walked into that funeral home and smelled my perfume on the child's jacket—because yes, I was there to pay my 'respects'—he knew."
"You were at the funeral," I muttered.
May you like
"I wanted to see the wreckage," she replied casually. "And now, here we are."
Before I could pull the weapon from my coat, the darkness around us exploded into motion.
