Well… whatever was left of him, anyway.
But saying yes? That would’ve been worse.
Would have meant losing the only person who's ever looked at me and seen real worth. The girl who tried to escape and then chose to stay. Who said "I want you" like it cost her everything.
So I walked out. Bought myself time I might not have. Delayed a choice I'll eventually have to make.
The weight sits in my chest. Leadership. Legacy. All of it crushing down on a decision that shouldn't be this hard.
The city slides past the windows—my city, my territory, my responsibility. Every building represents soldiers and families. Money and power. Every street corner is a deal, a dispute, or a decision I've made or need to make. The weight of it never stops. Never eases.
Being Pakhan means carrying it all. Means every choice affects hundreds of lives. Means sometimes you sacrifice for the greater good.
Should I let her go?
Would it be better? Safer? Would it end the tensions with Dmitri, smooth things over with the other families, and show everyone I'm serious about leadership?
Would it prove I'm not weak?
The thought of her being gone makes my chest tight. Sent away somewhere. Safe, protected, but not mine. Never mine again.
My father used to say: A Pakhan who lets emotion rule him is already dead.
This isn’t about ego. Not anymore. This is about a feeling I never thought I’d experience—one I didn’t even know I wanted. Until she looked at me like I was more than the blood on my hands.
"Boss," Pyotr says from the front seat. "Sergei's shift is almost done. I should be back to guard Lila soon."
Right. Sergei. Reliable when it matters. Lethal when it doesn't. A good killer despite the attitude. Maybe because of it.
And he's still here. They’re all still here. Still following my orders. Still trusting me to lead even when I'm making decisions that could get us all killed.
Despite everything, some men still trust my leadership.
Even if deep down, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing half the time.
"Good," I say. My voice is steadier than I feel. "Make sure she doesn't leave that room. Not for anything."
"Da, Boss. She'll be safe."
Misha crushes his cigarette under his boot and flicks it into the street. "What now?"
What now?The question that never goes away. More choices. More moves. More weight.
I think of Dmitri’s eyes on me. The other families circling like sharks. My own men testing the waters. Everything is hanging by a thread because I refuse to play the game they expect.
"Set a meeting," I tell Misha. "My mansion. Everyone we trust. Everyone who's loyal."
"When?"
"Tomorrow night. We need to consolidate. Figure out who's with us and who's waiting to see if I'll fold."
"And if Dmitri moves before then?"
"Then we move faster."
Misha nods, then pauses. "What about that meeting Dmitri was talking about? The one he says you'll attend. We going through with that?"
"We'll see."
