Gunfire & Betrayal
Music blasted through Anya Romanov luxury bedroom suite loud enough to vibrate the walls.
Inside the massive glass shower, she danced beneath the warm water completely naked, utterly unbothered by the world outside her room.
Steam wrapped around her skin as she laughed and sang dramatically into her hairbrush, eyes closed while water slid down her body.
“—AND IIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUU—”
Her voice cracked horribly.“Oh my God,” Anya groaned at herself before laughing again, pushing wet hair away from her face as she continued swaying her hips to the music blasting from hidden ceiling speakers.
Outside the bathroom counter sat:
expensive skincare products, scattered makeup, diamond jewelry tossed carelessly, a half-finished iced coffee slowly melting, and three missed calls blinked on her phone ignored.
The entire third floor belonged to her.
Nobody would complain about the noise.
Nobody ever did.
Because she was the spoiled daughter of Sergei Romanov—the Mafia Big Boss.
—
On the lower floors—
Bodies dropped across polished marble floors.
Blood splattered expensive walls.
The first bodyguard collapsed silently near the eastern corridor, blood pouring beneath him as masked men moved swiftly through the mansion.
Another guard turned the corner—
A suppressed bullet tore through his forehead before he could raise his weapon.
The invaders never stopped moving.
One by one, Romanov soldiers fell quietly across the estate.
Then finally, chaos exploded.
Gunfire erupted violently through the main sitting room.
Sergei Romanov stood up immediately, his silver-headed walking stick striking hard against the marble floor as his guards raised their weapons around him.
Marble shattered. Glass exploded across the floor.
One of his men screamed before crashing over a table with blood pouring from his neck. “Protect the boss!”
“Move!”
“LEFT SIDE—!”
“Big Boss, GO!”
His men stayed behind trying desperately to buy him time.
Sergei Romanov moved quickly through the hidden passage, the sharp tap of his walking stick echoing against the concrete, breathing heavy.
One of the masked men who seemed to be the leader flicked his wrist toward his direction as he spoke into his earpiece.
“Volk, Malik, Dragun,Zme, follow the big boss.”
Sergei’s hands tightened around his weapon as he forced himself forward through the underground route.
Behind him, gunfire echoed through the mansion above.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Only one person came to mind.
The call connected instantly. “Konstantin—”
**
Across the city—
Inside one of the most exclusive clubs in Moscow, neon lights flashed across crowded bodies while heavy bass shook the VIP floor.
Half naked women surrounded Konstantin Volkov clingingly across the leather couches.
“Boss, you’re ignoring all of them again,” one of the men laughed over the music.
A woman smirked, fingers sliding along the chain around Konstantin’s neck. “Maybe he’s just hard to entertain.”
Another leaned against Konstantin’s shoulder lazily. “Or maybe Moscow’s most feared man is secretly bored of clubs.”
Konstantin swirled the untouched drink in his hand once, expression flat.
“Maybe,” he said coldly, “you’re all too loud.”
Then his phone rang.
The second he saw the caller ID—
He answered immediately “Big boss?”
Gunfire exploded loudly through the phone.
Konstantin sat up instantly.
The women around him startled.
Sergei coughed harshly. “They breached the estate.”
A crash sounded nearby.
“Come rescue my daughter,” Sergei breathed heavily. “She’s alone in her room.”
Then Sergei spoke again, voice lower now. “Rush here, son… before they get to her first…”
Gunfire exploded through the call again.
Konstantin heard it. “Boss, stay alive. I’m coming.”
Behind Sergei—four armed men followed closely, boots striking the concrete tunnel in synchronized pursuit.
Sergei turned sharply.
First attacker entered the narrow corridor—
Two shots. Chest. Head. Down.
Second came immediately after.
Sergei grabbed him by the wrist using brutal force, twisted, and snapped the arm before firing into his ribs.
The man dropped screaming.
Third attacker raised his weapon—
Sergei fired before he could aim.
Silence for half a second.
Then only one remained.
The fourth man hesitated.
Sergei didn’t.
One shot. Blood s***h everywhere.
The tunnel went quiet except for distant gunfire still shaking the mansion above.
Sergei stood still for a moment, breathing hard, blood on his sleeve, gun still raised while his walking stick rested against the wall beside him.
Then he lifted his phone again.
The call was still active.
Konstantin Volkov was still on the line.
“Big boss!” Konstantin’s voice cut through static. “Talk to me!”
Sergei exhaled sharply.
“I’m almost at the hideout,” he said.
A pause.
Then…slow footsteps behind him again. Echoing faintly on the concrete
Sergei’s eyes narrowed.
“…No,” he muttered.
He turned slightly.
A figure stood at the end of the tunnel.
Mask still on.
But something about the posture—was familiar, too familiar
The figure stepped forward slowly. Then, without hesitation, raised a gun.
Sergei reacted instantly…but it was too late.
The shot fired.
It hit him in the side.
His body slammed hard against the wall, his walking stick crashing loudly onto the concrete beside him.
The phone nearly slipped from his hand.
“Big boss! Big boss! Are you okay?!” Konstantin’s voice sharpened on the line.
Sergei gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright.
He fired once in return.
The attacker moved back into cover.
Sergei staggered forward, forcing himself toward the hidden door.
He reached it.
Typed the code with shaking but precise fingers.
Beep. Accepted. The door unlocked.
He pushed inside.
The hideout door sealed behind him with a heavy mechanical thud.
He leaned against the wall, breathing hard, blood now soaking through his shirt.
The phone was still in his hand.
“Konstantin…” he breathed.
“I’m coming.” Konstantin replied immediately.
Sergei opened his mouth—
Then froze.
Footsteps behind him. Inside the hideout.
“Impossible.” he whispered, turning slowly.
The masked man was already inside.
Standing near the inner door.
No alarm triggered. No breach noise. Because he knew the code.
Sergei’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“…You,” he whispered.
The man tilted his head slightly. Then raised his gun. One shot.
Sergei’s body jerked violently.
The phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
The call disconnected.
Silence.
Konstantin Volkov slowly lowered the phone from his ear.
His expression turned completely lethal.
He stood up immediately, shoving one of the girls off his lap without even looking at her.
Grabbing his gun from the table, “Get the cars,” he ordered.
Nobody moved fast enough.
He slammed the gun onto the table. “NOW.”
**
Back at the underground hideout—
The man reached up. And removed his mask.
Silence.
Sergei Romanov’s eyes widened in shock.
“…Ivan?” he whispered.
“Yes big boss?” Ivan smiles coldly. “Rest in pieces old man”
Sergei’s strength finally gave way.
His body collapsed against the wall and slid down slowly into his own blood.
His eyes closed.
The last thing he saw was the face of the traitor. Then—nothing.
Ivan spoke into the earpiece: “Find the girl.”
—
Upstairs—
Anya was still inside the shower, completely unaware that her father had been shot dead.
The music drowned out everything.
She laughed softly to herself while rinsing shampoo from her hair.
The bathroom door suddenly burst open.
“—WHAT THE HELL—?!”
