The room went still. Even Maks stopped typing.
"Organ trafficking," Nikolai repeated, voice flat.
"Taking them from immigrants. Homeless people. Those who won't be missed. The Belyaevs provide security and transportation. Brand provides the medical infrastructure and buyers."
"How long?" This from Maks, his usual playful tone gone.
"Months. Perhaps the infrastructure was in place before Anton’s exile?"
Sophie made a small sound of disgust. Even after everything she'd seen, everything she'd survived, she still had the capacity to be horrified. I envied that. I'd lost it so long ago I couldn't remember what it felt like.
"Brighton Medical," Maks said slowly, fingers already flying across his keyboard again. "That's where Morris Medical Supplies has their primary account. We run sixty percent of their distribution through that hospital."
Now it was Nikolai's turn to go still. The Besharov medical supply operation was one of our cleanest revenue streams. Legitimate, mostly. Profitable. If the Belyaevs were interfering with that . . .
"They're not just rebuilding," Nikolai said quietly. "They're declaring war. Using our territory as a hunting ground and potentially disrupting our operations."
"Anton's desperate," Maks added, reading something on his screen. "His organisation is hurting. They’ve lost their drug routes, and their weapons suppliers cut them off after the Settling incident. Organ trafficking is quick money. One kidney can go for sixty grand on the black market."
"It's evil," Sophie said quietly. "Taking organs from people who came here for safety."
We all looked at her. She had one hand on her belly, protective, and her face had gone pale.
"Yes," Nikolai agreed. "It is."
He turned to me. "I need you to investigate. Find out how deep this goes. Identify Dr. Brand and his network. Map out all the Belyaev connection points."
I nodded. This was what I did. What I was good at.
"But Kostya." His voice sharpened. "Quietly. We can't afford another public war. Not with Sophie pregnant and Anton growing in power. This needs to be intelligence gathering, not intimidation."
My stomach dropped. Intelligence gathering. Subtle investigation. Everything I wasn't built for.
"You want me to be subtle?" I couldn't keep the skepticism out of my voice. "I'm six-five and look like I eat children for breakfast."
"You'll figure it out," Maks said, unhelpfully. "Maybe try smiling. Oh wait, that might make it worse."
"Maks," Sophie chided, but she was fighting a smile.
"I'm serious," Nikolai said. "This is delicate. We're dealing with a hospital, with civilian doctors and nurses. You can't just walk in and start breaking fingers."
"Then send Maks. He's good at talking to people without terrifying them."
"Maks is tracking their financial networks. I need you on the ground." Nikolai's tone said the discussion was over. "Start with the warehouse addresses Alexandr gave you. Work your way up. Find Brand."
I nodded, even though every instinct said this was going to go badly. I was a hammer. Everything looked like a nail to me. But Nikolai was Pakhan. His word was law.
"When do I start?"
"Tonight. After dark." He looked at Sophie, then back at me. "And Kostya? Be careful. If Anton's desperate enough to traffic organs, he's desperate enough to do anything."
The meeting continued, Maks pulling up financial data, Sophie cross-referencing with her intelligence networks. But I was already thinking about tonight. About investigating quietly when my very presence was a threat. About navigating a world of doctors and hospitals where my scars marked me as exactly what I was—a monster pretending to be human.
This was going to require a different kind of violence. The kind where I had to violence to my own nature, force myself into shapes I wasn't meant to fit.
But Nikolai trusted me. Sophie called me Uncle Kostya.
So I'd try. Even though trying felt like swallowing ground glass.
