"I want to," I admit. "Every instinct I have is screaming at me to go to war. But starting another bloodbath undermines everything we're trying to accomplish."
She's quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the map showing Ivan's recent acquisitions. Then she looks up at me, and I see something calculating in her expression. "What if we don't fight Ivan directly?"
"What do you mean?" Borge asks, his tone skeptical.
"Ivan's strategy is to make you look weak by forcing you to either back down or start a war," Alina says, her voice gainingconfidence. "Either way, he wins. If you back down, you look soft. If you start a war, you prove his point that nothing has really changed."
I lean against the desk, studying my wife. "Go on."
"So we do neither. Instead of focusing on Ivan, we focus on the families who haven't chosen sides yet." She pulls up the list of neutral families on Borge’s tablet. "These are the ones who matter. If we can win them over, show them that your way actually works, then Ivan becomes isolated. Irrelevant."
Alexei frowns. "How do we show them it works when Ivan is actively taking our territory?"
"We show them the numbers," Alina says simply. "The businesses under your protection are more profitable now than they were under the old system. The violence is down. The families who've adopted the reforms are making more money with less risk. We make it about profit and stability, not about tradition and pride."
I feel something shift in my chest. It's brilliant. Ruthless in its own way, but without the bloodshed. "We turn this into a business decision instead of a war."
"Exactly." Alina's eyes meet mine, and I see the steel beneath her beauty. "Ivan wants to make this about strength and tradition. We make it about smart business. Show the neutral families that there's more profit in peace than in war."
Yuri leans forward, his expression thoughtful. "We could arrange meetings. Private, one-on-one. Show them our books, let them see the actual numbers."
"And offer them better terms than what Ivan can provide," Borge adds, warming to the idea. "More autonomy, larger profit shares. Make it impossible for them to say no."
Alexei still looks skeptical, but I can see him considering it. "And what about Ivan? We just let him keep taking our territory?"
"We defend what's ours," I say, the plan crystallizing in my mind. "But we do it smart. Legal pressure, economic leverage, political connections. We make it expensive for him to hold what he's taken. Bleed him financially instead of literally."
"It's risky," Alexei says. "If it doesn't work, we'll have lost ground and looked weak doing it."
"And if we go to war, we'll lose men and prove Ivan's point that we're no different than we ever were," I counter. "This way, we have a chance to actually change things."
I look at Alina, seeing the hope and determination in her face.
"We do it Alina's way," I decide. "Borge, start reaching out to the neutral families. Arrange meetings, but keep them quiet. I want economic analysis on all of Ivan's recent acquisitions. Find the weak points. Alexei, coordinate with our legal team. I want to know every regulation, every permit, every piece of leverage we can use."
Alexei nods slowly. "And if this doesn't work? If Ivan keeps pushing?"
"Then we push back," I say, my voice hard. "But we try this first."
The men file out, leaving me alone with Alina. She moves into my arms, and I hold her close, breathing in the jasmine scent of her hair. "Thank you," I murmur against her temple.
I kiss her, slow and deep, pouring everything I feel into it. Love and gratitude and fear all mixed together. When I finally release her, we're both breathing hard.
"Come to bed," she says. "You need rest too."
I'm about to agree when my phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at the screen and see it's from one of my most reliable informants. The message is brief, but it makes my blood run cold.
I must go pale because Alina immediately tenses. "What is it?"
I read the message again, hoping I've misunderstood. But the words are clear, unambiguous, and absolutely terrifying.
"Dimitri?" Alina's voice is sharp with concern. "What's wrong?"
I look up at my wife, at the woman carrying my child, at the person who's become the center of my entire world. And I have to tell her that Ivan Volkov has just put a price on her head.
Half a million dollars to anyone who kills the woman who's corrupting the Bratva.
47
