The black car moved smoothly on the highway of Moscow, the headlights shining as the day began to turn dark.
Nikolai Volkov sat in the back seat, leaning against the leather interior, eyes shut but he was very much awake. His mind was restless from the meeting he had just had.
The sudden buzz of his phone broke the silence. He opened his eyes, reached into his pocket, and pulled it out. A single message glared back at him:
‘Petrovich is getting too close to Aurora.’
It was from Lorenzo.
“Motherfucker,” Nikolai muttered under his breath. Rage boiling in his chest as he immediately dialed Lorenzo’s number.
The line connected after two rings.
“Hello, boss,” Lorenzo’s calm voice answered.
“What the f**k do you mean he’s getting close to Aurora?” Nikolai’s voice was low, but it carried
