He's thought this through. Covered all the angles. Lila gets to live. Gets her freedom.
And I get to keep my empire, my reputation, my position.
All it costs is her.
"I need your answer, Petrov. Take the deal. End this." He pauses, allowing the silence to build. "Or watch what happens when you choose pussy over power."
The silence goes on forever.
Dmitri waits. His dogs wait. Mine too.
The whole room holds its breath.
Dmitri's enjoying this. I can see it in the way he stands there, relaxed, confident. He thinks he's got me backed into a corner. Thinks I'll either accept his generous offer or refuse and look like a fool in front of everyone.
Win-win for him.
This is the moment. Accept and keep my empire. Refuse and risk everything.
But there's a third option. The one I'm going to take, even though it might destroy me.
I step forward. Not toward Dmitri—past him, heading for the exit.
"You're a roach, Dmitri."
The smirk dies. "What?—"
"Scurrying around, pretending you matter. Making deals nobody asked for. Thinking you have leverage when all you have is empty threats and the desperation of a man who knows he's outmatched."
"Petrov—"
"We're done here." I keep walking and don't look back.
"You'll come back crawling eventually!" Dmitri's voice rises, that smooth confidence cracking. "The deal stands, Petrov! When your empire crumbles, when your men turn on you, when that girl gets you killed—remember I offered you a way out!"
I continue walking.
“I’ll arrange another meeting!” he calls, voice regaining that oily confidence. "And you'll come, Petrov. Because you know what our families need from each other. Consider it courtesy between old allies."
Old allies. He really believes that bullshit.
The warehouse door slams behind me. Cold air hits my face. The city sprawls ahead, indifferent to what happened, to the choice I made.
Or didn't make.
Because that's the truth, isn't it? I didn't refuse the deal. I didn't accept it either. Just walked out, left it hanging there like a noose waiting to tighten.
Misha and Pyotr are already waiting at the car. They don't speak until we're inside, moving through empty streets. Industrial district this time of night—warehouses and shipping containers and the smell of Lake Michigan.
"That was smart," Misha says finally. "Leaving the deal hanging like that."
I let the silence work for me. Let him think it’s part of the plan.
But deep down? I know.
I didn’t walk away because walking away would’ve been stupid. Would’ve made me look soft. Like I’d trade power for a pair of pretty eyes and a heartbeat.
My father would’ve turned in his grave.
