Demyan straightens. “Understood. I’ll send word to the captains.”
“Not just the captains.” I lean forward, my tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Everyone. I don’t care how far down the chain they are—they’ll feel the shift. Anton wants a war? Fine. He’ll get one. But it’ll be on my terms.”
Demyan hesitates a little. “A full lockdown, Boss…it’ll strangle the city. Our business fronts will feel it. Our allies will notice. And if Anton’s goal is to smoke you out, this kind of shift could play right into his hands.”
I meet his gaze, unblinking. “Then let him. At least this way, he’ll be stepping into my fire, not the other way around.”
Demyan exhales slowly, the faintest shake of his head betraying his concern. But he doesn’t argue further. “Very well, sir. I’ll start the calls. But understand this—once we tighten the circle, it’s going to be harder to breathe. For everyone.”
“Good,” I murmur, my voice low, final. “Let them choke. As long as Anton drowns first.”
When Demyan doesn’t move, I sigh with impatience. “Anything else?”
Demyan straightens, his tone measured but laced with weight. “Niko…the elders are losing patience. They see the chaos spilling over in Chicago, and it’s drawing eyes we don’t want. Other bratvas are beginning to take notice, testing the air. The elders fear this won’t stay between you and Anton. They’re worried it could ignite into something much larger. A war.”
His words hang in the room, careful but heavy, as though he’s laying down truth without daring to cross the line of insubordination. His gaze never wavers, but I catch the faint dip of his head—a silent acknowledgment that he respects me enough to voice it, even if he knows I won’t like it.
I stand, shoving my hands into my pockets, the movement sharp and restless as I walk to the window. The city sprawls beneath me, glittering, oblivious. My reflection stares back at me from the glass—jaw tight, eyes like stone.
Behind me, Demyan clears his throat softly, choosing his next words with precision. “Bogdan reached out.”
I don’t turn. “Bogdan?”
“Yes.”
Bogdan is a much older enforcer and has been in the business for over sixty years. He recently moved to Russia, where he commands respect amongst the Bratva. His voice carries weight with the elders, so Demyan’s words catch my attention.
“Bogdan?”
“He’s asking for Noelle,” he says. “Says she should be handed over. For questioning.”
The words strike like a blade to the spine. My chest goes still, breath suspended. For one fraction of a second, everything inside me freezes. Then the heat comes, fast and violent, like fire crawling through my veins.
I turn from the glass, my eyes cutting into Demyan. “He said what?”
Demyan doesn’t flinch, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the faint steel in his spine. He knows he’s just dropped an inferno in this room.
“He thinks she’s in cohorts with Anton and wants to talk to her himself,” Demyan says.
“No.”
Demyan blinks. “Sir—”
“Noelle is under my name.” My words cut through the air, iron and final. “Anyone—Bogdan, the elders, Anton himself—anyone who touches her will die by my hand.”
The fury in my chest surges, too hot to hold still. I step closer, my shadow falling long across the room. “She is not at fault here. She is not the one setting off bombs, or spilling blood in our clinics. She is Anton’s pawn, nothing more. And I will not—” my voice deepens, low and dangerous, “—let her suffer for his games.”
Demyan’s eyes sharpen, but he bows his head slightly, a mark of acknowledgment. He knows when my mind is sealed shut.
“Make sure the elders understand me,” I finish. “Noelle is off-limits. She carries my name now. That makes her untouchable.”
“Yes, sir.” Demyan steps back, his shoulders straight, but I catch it—the way his gaze flickers to the side. From the corner of my eye, I see Noelle shrink into herself, curling small against the cushions, as if she could disappear into the space between heartbeats.
I don’t look at her. If I do, the rage boiling in me will spill over, and Demyan will be the one to feel it.
“Get out,” I bite, the words sharp enough to draw blood.
Demyan takes some more steps back. “Sir…there’s something else. Information brought to me directly by Lev. He said it was for you, and you alone.”
