I moved to stand beside him. We stood in silence, both watching Sophie laugh at something Clara was showing her.
"You're doing well, vnuchok," Mikhail said finally. "The families are stable. The alliance is real."
The past six months had been brutal realignment. Absorbing Belyaev operations without creating power vacuums. Solidifying the Volkov alliance. Making sure every family understood the rules had changed.
I'd rebuilt the bratva landscape around a new center. Around Sophie. Every decision filtered through whether it made her safer, eliminated threats, created stability.
"I'm doing well because of her," I said quietly. "Because Sophie gave me something to build toward instead of just defend against."
Mikhail nodded, eyes still tracking Sophie. "Which brings me to the question I've been waiting six months to ask."
He turned to look at me, expression shifting. The strategist recognizing a confrontation was coming.
"The Settling," I said, keeping my voice level. "You pushed me to go. You knew."
His lips curved into that infuriating smile. "I knew some things. I knew Katerina Volkov had been promised to Konstantin Belyaev before her marriage to Dmitri. I knew there were rumors about an affair. I knew that when Dmitri was exiled twenty-five years ago, it wasn't just about stealing."
"You knew Sophie existed. Knew she was Belyaev blood with a Volkov name."
"I knew the timing was suspicious. Dmitri's exile happened shortly after. The official reason was theft. But the real reason was that keeping him close while there were questions about his wife's fidelity and his daughter's paternity was too dangerous. Exile protected everyone. Protected the child especially."
"So when you heard about the auction," I said, "when you learned Sophie Volkov was being sold, you knew exactly what she represented. A Belyaev heir with Volkov protection. A bloodline claim that could destabilize everything."
"I knew she would be a focal point," Mikhail agreed. "I didn't know if she was the bomb or the key. If bringing her into our world would destroy everything or save it." He took another sip. "But I sent you anyway."
"Why? If you knew the risk—"
"Because I watched you drowning in control, Kolya." Mikhail's voice went soft. "You were a perfect Pakhan. Strategic, calculated. You protected the family. You did everything right."
He turned to face me fully.
"But you were a broken man. You hadn't had a meaningful relationship in years. Hadn't let anyone close. Hadn't allowed yourself to feel anything except cold satisfaction of successful operations. You were turning into a machine. Brilliant and effective and completely hollow inside."
The words hit like physical blows.
"I didn't know if Sophie was the answer," Mikhail continued. "Didn't know if she was the bomb or the key. But I knew—I hoped—she was the only one catastrophic enough to shatter your control and force you to feel something real again."
"You sent me to save me. Not for political reasons. You sent me to the auction because you thought she might fix me?"
"Save you," Mikhail corrected gently. "From yourself. From the isolation you'd turned into armor. From the belief that caring was weakness." He looked toward Sophie. "I gambled everything on the possibility that she'd be catastrophic enough to break through your defenses. And I was right."
I followed his gaze. Sophie across the room, surrounded by family, her face alight with joy. My wife.
"You risked the entire organization," I said quietly. "Brought her in knowing she could destabilize everything. All because you wanted me to be happy?"
"Human," Mikhail said simply. "I wanted you to be human again. To remember you weren't just a Pakhan making strategic decisions. You were a man who deserved love and partnership."
He finished his vodka, setting the empty glass on the windowsill.
"The organization can be rebuilt. Territories can be renegotiated. Alliances can be reformed. But you—" His voicewent rough. "—you only get one life, vnuchok. One chance to find someone who makes the brutal world worth surviving. I couldn't let you waste that by being too controlled to grab it."
Sophie's eyes found mine across the room. The connection was immediate, electric. She smiled, that private expression meant only for me.
"Thank you," I said, voice thick. "For sending me. For risking it."
Mikhail's hand found my shoulder. Heavy. Warm. "You don't thank me, Kolya. You just live. You love her. You build something real with the life I helped give back to you. That's all the thanks I need."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Across the room, Sophie excused herself from Maks and Ivan, her eyes never leaving mine as she started moving toward me. Her bad knee made her favor her right side slightly, but she moved with grace anyway.
