"Alina," he says, his voice perfectly calm. "What are you doing in my study?"
12
DIMITRI
The armory is cold, the concrete walls doing nothing to hold warmth. I stand before the weapons cabinet, methodically checking magazines, testing the weight of different firearms in my hands. A Glock 19 for close quarters. A SIG Sauer P226 for reliability. Extra ammunition in tactical pouches. Body armor, though I hate the restriction it puts on my movement.
I'm preparing for war.
Two hours have passed since Alina left with her father. One hour remains before she's supposed to return. But every instinct I've honed over the decades in this life is screaming that something is wrong.
I slide a knife into my boot, another into a sheath at my back. Old habits from my early days, when guns weren't always available and close combat was the only option. The familiar weight of the weapons should be comforting, but instead, I feel exposed, vulnerable in a way I haven't felt since I was a young man fighting my way up through the Bratva ranks.
Because Alina is out there, beyond my protection, and I can't do a damn thing about it.
"Pakhan." One of my men appears in the doorway, his face carefully neutral. "The vehicles are ready. Men are in position."
I nod, not trusting my voice. I've stationed teams at strategic points around the Popov estate, close enough to respond quickly but far enough to avoid detection. If Viktor tries anything, if he attempts to keep Alina or move her somewhere else, we'll know immediately.
If. The word mocks me. I know Viktor will try something. The only question is what.
I check my phone for the hundredth time. Still nothing from Alina’s panic button. That should reassure me, but it doesn't. She could be packing. She could be saying goodbye to her sister. Or she could be trapped, held against her will while Viktor figures out his next move.
My hands tighten around the Glock I'm holding. I force myself to breathe, to think clearly. Emotion is a weakness in this world. It clouds judgment, makes you sloppy. I've seen good men die because they let their feelings override their training.
But when I think about Alina, about her green eyes and the way she stood up to me with a gun in her shaking hands, about the taste of her lips and the heat of her body pressed against mine, I don't feel like a good man. I feel like something primitive and possessive, something that wants to tear apart anyone who threatens what's mine.
She's not mine yet, a voice in my head reminds me.We’re not married yet. She might not come back at all.
I shove the thought away and holster the Glock. Then I select a rifle, something with range and stopping power. Just in case.
My phone buzzes, and I grab it immediately. But it's not the panic signal. It's a message from one of my informants, a man who works in the Kozlov organization. The text is brief, encrypted, but the meaning is clear.
Confirmed. Popov/Kozlov alliance. Church hit was joint operation.
Ice floods my veins. I knew it. I suspected it from the moment I saw the coordination of the attack, the professional execution. But having it confirmed, seeing it in black and white, makes rage burn hot in my chest.
Viktor Popov sold out his own daughter. Arranged for her fiancé to be murdered at their wedding. All for power, for territory, for a larger piece of the Bratva pie.
My phone rings, and I answer without checking the caller ID. "Talk."
"Dimitri." It's Yuri, another informant, his voice tight with urgency. "I have information about the church attack. About Viktor Popov."
"I'm listening."
"He brokered a deal with the Kozlovs six months ago. They wanted Sergei dead, wanted to create chaos in the Morozov family. Viktor provided the wedding details, the security layouts, everything they needed. In exchange, the Kozlovs promised protection for his family and a thirty percent cut of your territory once you were weakened."
My jaw clenches so hard, I hear my teeth grind. "Go on."
"The plan was for you to be distracted by Sergei's death, by the chaos. While you were dealing with the fallout, the Kozlovs would move against your operations. Take your businesses, your soldiers, everything. Viktor would step in as a mediator, help broker a peace, and come out looking like a hero while pocketing his share."
"But I took Alina." The pieces fall into place with sickening clarity.
"Exactly. That wasn't part of the plan. Viktor didn't expect you to grab his daughter and bring her to your estate. Now she's a liability. She knows too much, or she might figure it out. And if she stays with you, if she actually marries you like the rumors are saying, then Viktor loses his leverage entirely."
I move to the window, looking out at the grounds. My men are positioned around the property, weapons ready, waiting for my orders. "What's Viktor planning to do?"
"I don't know specifics. But he's desperate. He's been making calls all morning, trying to figure out how to get Alina back without making himself look guilty. The Kozlovs are pressuring him too. They want this situation resolved before it blows back on them."
