My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 128

Chapter 128: The City of Kings

[Ethan’s POV]

The rhythmic clacking of the train wheels was the only sound in the freezing cargo car.

I sat on an intact wooden crate, my canvas jacket and shirt stripped off, shivering as the icy wind whipped through the open doorway. Claire was standing in front of me, her hands covered in my blood, holding a curved suturing needle she had pulled from our emergency medkit.

"This is going to hurt," she warned, her voice tight.

"Just do it," I gritted out, biting down on a rolled-up piece of leather strap.

Claire didn’t hesitate. She pushed the needle through the torn flesh of my shoulder. I muffled a groan, my muscles locking up as she pulled the thick nylon thread tight. She worked quickly and efficiently, her face pale but her hands perfectly steady.

"Six stitches," she said a few minutes later, tying off the knot and snipping the thread with a pair of trauma shears. She taped a thick gauze pad over the wound. "It’s not pretty, but it’ll hold as long as you don’t get into another knife fight with an ex-FBI manhunter."

"I’ll try to keep it on the schedule," I muttered, spitting out the leather strap and pulling a clean thermal shirt from my duffel bag. I winced as I pulled it over my head.

Claire sat down on the floor across from me, wiping the blood off her hands with a rag. She looked exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes stark against her pale skin.

"Varga," she said quietly, staring at the open doorway where the tracks blurred past. "He’s not going to stop, Ethan. He’s not doing this for Isabella’s money. He’s doing it for revenge."

"I know," I said, checking the action on my Glock and sliding it into my holster. "Jake humiliated him. He took his blackmail files and burned his agency to the ground. A guy like Varga... he lives for control. Jake took that away. Now he wants blood."

"He’ll track the train," Claire said.

"Let him," I said, leaning back against the cold metal wall. "Vienna is a big city. And we have a head start."

We crossed the Austrian border just before dawn. The smuggler’s train slowed as it entered a massive freight depot on the outskirts of Vienna. We didn’t wait for it to come to a complete stop. We grabbed our bags, jumped from the moving car, and slipped through the rail yard before the border police even began their inspections.

By mid-morning, we were walking through the heart of the Austrian capital.

The contrast between Odesa and Vienna was staggering. Odesa had been a gritty, industrial warzone. Vienna was a pristine, glittering monument to old European wealth. The streets were lined with immaculate baroque architecture, high-end designer boutiques, and cafes filled with people wearing suits that cost more than my car.

We stuck out like sore thumbs. We were bruised, exhausted, and wearing cheap, dirty clothes.

"We need to get off the street," Claire murmured, pulling her scarf up to hide her face as a pair of private security guards eyed us suspiciously from the steps of a luxury hotel. "Isabella’s influence is everywhere here. Half these banks and hotels are probably owned by her shell companies."

"We need a safehouse," I agreed. "And we need to figure out what Jake is targeting."

We found a small, cash-only hostel in the Leopoldstadt district, far away from the glittering palaces of the city center. The room was tiny, but it was clean, and more importantly, it didn’t require a credit card or a passport.

As soon as I locked the door, Claire opened her briefcase and spread the stolen shipping manifest and Jake’s notebooks across the small desk.

"Okay," Claire said, rubbing her eyes and forcing herself to focus. "Odesa was Isabella’s supply line. But Vienna is her financial fortress. If Jake is here, he’s not looking to burn a warehouse. He’s looking to cripple her infrastructure."

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