chapter 27

Eun-jae barely held back a flinch. His fingers twitched slightly as he adjusted the tiny earpiece, grounding himself in the present. His pulse, which had only just begun to settle, spiked again—not out of fear, but out of irritation.

He had almost forgotten about the damn microchip in his ear.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm here," he muttered under his breath, forcing his voice to remain steady.

A pause.

Then Caesar's voice came again, smooth and deliberate, carrying the same infuriating laziness as always.

"Bes just left. Stepped out to answer a call."

Eun-jae's breath hitched.

His muscles tensed as his mind immediately shifted gears.

Bes was gone?

That meant there was an opening.

A sliver of opportunity that hadn't existed just seconds ago.

If Bes had stepped away, then the balance of power in the room had shifted. His absence might make the others lower their guard, make them feel safer. They might speak more freely—say things they wouldn't dare say in his presence.

"This could be it."

He had been waiting for something like this. A crack in their defenses.

His fingers curled slightly, the weight of his mission pressing down on him with renewed urgency. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

But then—

A small detail lodged itself in his mind.

A detail that didn't sit right.

Caesar had been feeding him updates since the beginning of the night, tracking movements before they even happened, tipping him off about things he had no business knowing.

And that shouldn't have been possible.

"How the hell is he doing this?"

The thought crept in like an itch beneath his skin, impossible to ignore.

Caesar's information wasn't just accurate—it was too accurate. Too precise.

And that bothered him.

Eun-jae's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Wait…" he muttered, suspicion threading through his voice. "How the hell are you able to track everything so perfectly?"

A pause.

Then, a low chuckle crackled through the earpiece.

Eun-jae felt his irritation spike.

"That bastard is enjoying this."

He could already picture the damn smirk on Caesar's face—the one that always made it impossible to tell whether he was being helpful or just messing with him.

"Well," Caesar drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, "let's just say a certain female Alpha took a liking to me."

Eun-jae frowned.

A female Alpha?

Russia had no shortage of powerful Alphas, but—

"She's the second daughter of the Karpov-Troitsky family."

Eun-jae's entire body stiffened.

"What?"

"Irina Karpov-Troitsky," Caesar continued, his voice still as casual as ever. "She decided to show me around, introduce me to a few… interesting places."

Eun-jae clenched his jaw.

He had heard of Irina Karpov-Troitsky.

Unlike her older brother, who was being groomed to take over the family empire, Irina was an outlier.

A wild card.

There were rumors about her—whispers in the underground world.

That she had her own agenda, separate from her family's.

That she was as brilliant as she was dangerous.

That even her own family didn't fully trust her.

And now, somehow, Caesar had gotten close to her?

Why?

No. That didn't make sense. The Karpov-Troitskys didn't let outsiders in. Not unless they had something to gain. Not unless they were using them.

Eun-jae's fingers tightened into a fist against his thigh. His voice dropped into something low and sharp. "Tell me you're joking."

Silence.

Then—

A slow, deliberate hum. "Would I ever lie to you, Eun-jae?"

Eun-jae clenched his jaw. "Every damn chance you get."

Caesar chuckled. "Touché."

"This whole time… he's been moving through this place like it's his own playground. Like he already knows everything that's going to happen before it does."

Had Caesar planned this from the start?

Or was he just taking advantage of the chaos?

Eun-jae wasn't sure which was worse.

Caesar let out a soft, mocking hum, as if he could hear the gears turning in Eun-jae's head.

"Let's just say," he murmured, "while she was busy showing me around, I… took the opportunity to look around myself."

A slow, creeping smirk curled onto his lips.

"And let's just say—I found some interesting things."

Eun-jae exhaled sharply, irritation curling in his chest.

There it was.

That damn tone.

Like this was all some kind of elaborate game to him.

Like he was waiting for Eun-jae to ask the right question.

Like he was holding something over him.

And Eun-jae hated that.

But more than that—

He hated that despite everything, he still needed Caesar's help.

Because if Irina Karpov-Troitsky really had shown Caesar around…

That meant he had seen things.

"Wait, where are you now?"

Eun-jae's voice was sharp and hushed, laced with the kind of urgency that came from knowing time was running out. He kept his body pressed close to the cool surface of the balcony railing, his breaths shallow as his gaze flickered toward the hallway. Every second mattered. Every movement had to be calculated. The wrong step could get him caught, and getting caught wasn't an option. Not now. Not when he was this close to uncovering something critical.

"I'm in the CCTV control room. The one in the basement," Caesar responded, his voice far too casual, as if he wasn't sitting at the very heart of enemy surveillance with his fingers deep in the security system.

Eun-jae tensed. The basement? That meant Caesar had somehow managed to slip past several layers of restricted access without so much as a scratch, which was equal parts impressive and infuriating.

"Doing what?" Eun-jae asked, already dreading the answer.

"Keeping an eye on everything, duh."

The sheer arrogance in Caesar's tone was enough to make Eun-jae grind his teeth. Of course, this bastard would find his way into the one place that gave him a full view of the entire operation. Of course, he would sit there like a king watching his little chessboard, giving cryptic clues while the rest of them risked their necks.

Caesar wasn't done. "Which includes the guard currently ascending the stairs to the fourth floor."

Eun-jae's head snapped to the side so fast his neck almost cramped. What? His sharp gaze darted toward the staircase in the distance, and sure enough, he caught the faint movement of a shadow creeping up toward the next landing.

His stomach clenched.

Shit.

There wasn't supposed to be any movement on this side of the building. Either the security rotations had changed, or someone had gotten suspicious. Neither was a good sign.

A glint of light caught his eye. His gaze flicked up, locking onto the dark, rounded lens of a camera nestled in the ceiling corner. A cold realization settled in his gut. Caesar had been watching him this entire time.

Eun-jae rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw the back of his skull.

"Pfft—hahahahaha!"

Caesar's sudden burst of laughter made Eun-jae's grip tighten around the railing. He was laughing? Really?

Eun-jae exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing down the urge to rip the microchip out of his ear and stomp on it.

"Why are you wasting your time over there?" Caesar drawled, voice dripping with amusement.

Oh, I don't know, maybe because I don't have the luxury of sitting on my ass in a climate-controlled basement with full access to every camera in the building?

Eun-jae bit his tongue, refusing to take the bait. He needed to focus.

"The call Bes went to answer," he muttered instead, shifting gears, "is it from Dragunov?"

A pause.

Then, with the laziest, most insufferable tone imaginable, Caesar said, "Who knows? Maybe."

Eun-jae clenched his jaw so tight it ached.

This bastard. This absolute—

He inhaled sharply, reminding himself that murder was not an option right now.

Instead, he focused on the fragment of memory that had resurfaced earlier. A landline.

"While I was looking around earlier, I saw a landline at the end of the third-floor hallway. Right in front of one of Ilay's offices."

There was a brief beat of silence, and for once, Caesar actually sounded interested.

"Yes!" His voice sharpened. "There's a high possibility that Ilay's calls could be answered there."

Eun-jae's pulse picked up. If Ilay—one of the masterminds behind this entire operation—was taking important calls from that landline, then this was his chance.

His chance to intercept something. His chance to finally get a step ahead instead of constantly playing catch-up.

But there was a catch.

"You need to get to that telephone in ten seconds," Caesar said, voice suddenly urgent. "Luckily, you're just above the third-floor hallway."

Ten seconds.

Eun-jae barely had time to process the number before his instincts kicked in. No time to think. No time to hesitate. He moved.

Launching himself over the edge of the balcony, he let gravity take him, free-falling for a brief, heart-stopping moment before his fingers latched onto the cold iron railing of the third floor. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn't let go. He swung himself up, his boots landing with a muffled thud against the balcony floor.

His breathing was heavy. His heart thundered in his chest.

And all he could think was—

Here I am, risking my actual life, while this asshole sits in the basement watching me like it's a damn action movie.

He groaned, pushing himself up. His fingers were tingling from the impact, and his pulse was still recovering from the drop.

Meanwhile, Caesar was probably sipping on some stolen drink, feet kicked up on the control desk, laughing his smug ass off.

Life was so unfair.

But there was no time to dwell on that.

Eun-jae steadied himself, took a deep breath, and sprinted toward the telephone. He had seconds before Bes returned. Seconds to make this count.

The moment his fingers wrapped around the cold receiver, Eun-jae pressed it to his ear, heart hammering as he strained to catch even the faintest sound.

Nothing.

Silence.

"Shit—did the call already end?" His grip on the phone tightened as a rush of frustration surged through him. Had he risked his life scaling balconies just to miss his window of opportunity?

But just as he was about to lower the receiver, a voice crackled through the line.

"Ah, yes. Great timing—I was even about to call you."

Eun-jae's breath hitched.

His fingers instinctively curled around the receiver, his muscles stiffening as he forced himself to remain still. Stay calm. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every word exchanged on this line could be a piece of the puzzle he needed. He had one shot at this.

The voice on the other end continued, casual but firm, laced with the kind of authority that told Eun-jae this wasn't just some middleman. No, this was someone high up, someone with enough power to pull the strings in this operation.

"We have come to an agreement. They said they would send a technician to fix it."

"It."

The Voron.

Eun-jae's jaw clenched. His mind raced. So the weapon was malfunctioning. That meant they weren't ready to deploy it just yet. That gave him time—but not much.

"When will they arrive in Moscow?" the second voice inquired.

"Within a day or two. He'll be departing tomorrow."

A day or two.

That was no time at all.

Eun-jae shifted his stance, pressing himself further against the wall as a new wave of urgency coursed through his veins. He needed to figure out who this "technician" was before they landed. If they managed to fix whatever issues the Voron had—if they stabilized the targeting system—then this entire situation would spiral into something far worse.

Then came something even more concerning.

"Make sure those things don't tag along. I don't want any complications."

Eun-jae's pulse quickened.

"Those things?"

His mind reeled with possibilities. Weapons? Documents? Something even more dangerous?

But the next response made his stomach drop.

"Oh, don't worry. They'll be coming here as Vietnamese, so it will be very hard for the Canadians to recognize them."

His breath hitched.

Vietnamese?

A cover identity.

Whoever was coming wasn't just some standard technician. They were making sure this person—or people—could slip through international scrutiny unnoticed. Which meant this wasn't just a repair job. There was something bigger happening.

Eun-jae bit the inside of his cheek, his thoughts spiraling.

Who were the Canadians in this equation? If they were worried about being recognized, then that meant Canadian intelligence or some foreign agency was already sniffing around this operation. That was a problem. If international eyes were on this deal, it meant that Russia wasn't the only country involved.

It also meant that things were about to get a whole lot messier.

"We must be very vigilant and keep a close eye. Don't forget to update me regularly."

"Alright."

The line clicked.

Eun-jae stayed frozen in place, the weight of what he had just overheard settling over him like a suffocating blanket. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, his pulse thrumming against his skin like a war drum. The gravity of the conversation he had just eavesdropped on clung to him, suffocating and heavy, like a predator waiting to pounce.

This was huge.

Bigger than he expected. More tangled than he was prepared for. And now, he was stuck right in the middle of it.

Slowly, he placed the telephone back down, his fingers lingering on the receiver for a second longer than necessary as if he needed to physically detach himself from the weight of the words he had just heard. His lips twisted into a wry smirk, though there was no real amusement behind it.

"Wow… that was one shitty-ass convo."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off the lingering tension.

"At least I know my st—"