Chapter 12 - Resurrected Shadows
Darkness did not claim Nikolai for long. Pain pulled him violently back toward consciousness—a sharp, stinging jab of adrenaline injected straight into his femoral artery. His eyes snapped open, his vision clearing through a haze of rain and sweat.
The medics were working frantically around him, bandaging the exit wound on his chest, but his gaze remained locked on the man standing at the threshold of the bridge.
The man was tall, dressed in a long, dark overcoat that reached his shins, leaning heavily on a silver-headed cane. His face was scarred by time and fire, a patch covering his left eye. It was an impossible phantom from a past Nikolai had spent his entire life trying to erase: Dominic Rostov, his father's former consiglieri, presumed assassinated during the syndicate purges twelve years ago.
""You look terrible, boy,"" Dominic’s gravelly voice cut through the chaos of the medics' shouting.
Nikolai tried to sit up, but a fresh wave of agony pinned him against the console. He grunted, his fingers digging into the iron floor. ""Dominic... how...""
""Did you really believe Dante had the brains to orchestrate a coup of this magnitude?"" Dominic stepped slowly into the bridge, his cane clicking rhythmically against the blood-slicked steel. ""Dante was an attack dog. Vanessa was a grieving puppet. They were the overture, Nikolai. Nothing more.""
Mikhail immediately drew his sidearm, pointing it at the old man's chest. ""Step back, old man, or I put a round through your skull!""
Dominic didn't even look at the guard. He simply tapped his cane twice against the floorboards.
From the shadows of the exterior catwalk, three laser sights painted Mikhail’s chest and forehead. More of Dominic's men lined the upper deck, having moved in utter silence behind Nikolai's own security team.
""Stand down, Mikhail,"" Nikolai managed to rasp out, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips. He pulled Sofia closer to his side with his good arm, shielding her from the old man's cold stare. ""What do you want, Dominic? The ledger?""
Dominic chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that lacked any warmth. ""The ledger is obsolete, Nikolai. Paper and accounts mean nothing when the world burns. I want what your father stole from me before he put a bullet in my family's car.""
He pointed the silver tip of his cane straight at Sofia.
Nikolai felt every nerve ending in his body ignite with fresh adrenaline. The pain in his chest vanished, consumed entirely by a father's savage protective instinct. ""She has nothing to do with this.""
""She has everything to do with this,"" Dominic replied smoothly. ""The blood running through her veins doesn't just belong to you, Nikolai. Her mother was my daughter.""
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Nikolai froze, the ground feeling as though it were dropping out beneath him.
""You hid her well after my daughter died giving birth to her,"" Dominic continued, his single eye glinting with twisted triumph. ""You thought you could raise my granddaughter to be the heir to the Rostov empire without me knowing? She belongs to the true bloodline. And tonight, she comes home.""
