"Mmm," she murmured against my chest, not quite awake. Her leg shifted higher on mine, and I had to bite back a groan. Morning. Bodies pressed together. My cock had its own ideas about what should happen next.
But I just held her. Let her wake slowly, naturally. No demands. No rush. Just this.
Zmeya chose that moment to announce herself, jumping onto the bed with a demanding meow. She stalked up the mattress like she owned it, green eyes evaluating the situation. Found Maya occupying her usual spot on my chest and expressed her displeasure with a series of chirps that probably translated to profanity in cat.
"Your daughter is upset," Maya mumbled, still not opening her eyes.
My daughter. I chuckled.
Domestic. Normal. Everything I'd never thought I'd have.
Malysh appeared at the edge of the bed, more cautious than his sister, gray eyes wide as he assessed whether it was safe to join. I reached down with one hand, careful not to disturb Maya, and lifted him up. He immediately curled into the space between Maya's hip and mine, purring like a tiny motor.
This was it. This was what people killed for, died for, built their whole lives around. Not the money or the power or the fear you could inspire. This. Waking up with someone you loved, cats invading your bed, sunlight making everything look like a fucking Hallmark movie.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
The sound cut through the morning peace like a blade. I knew without looking that it would be bad news.
I reached for the phone, careful not to jostle Maya, though she was already stirring more, consciousness returning whether she wanted it or not.
Nikolai: Family meeting. One hour. Urgent.
Ice replaced the warmth in my chest. "Urgent" in our world meant bodies or bullets or both. Meant someone had made a move. Meant the brief peace we'd carved out was about to shatter.
I looked down at Maya, her eyes starting to flutter open, hazel catching the morning light. She looked soft. Vulnerable. Unaware that our bubble was about to burst.
I made a decision that went against every instinct that had kept me alive for thirty years—I'd handle this without her. Whatever Nikolai had to tell me, whatever fresh hell was coming our way, I'd face it first. Process it. Figure out how to protect her from it.
"Go back to sleep, kitten," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's early."
She made a sound of protest but burrowed deeper into my chest, already sliding back toward dreams. The trust in that simple action—the faith that I'd keep her safe while she slept—hit me hard.
I extracted myself from Maya's warmth like I was defusing a bomb—slow, careful, every movement calculated to keep her sleeping. She mumbled something, reached for where I'd been, but I tucked a pillow against her and she settled. The kittens watched me dress with judgmental eyes, like they knew I was abandoning their mother for bratva business.
Forty minutes later, I stood in Nikolai's office watching my brother pour coffee like we were having a normal morning meeting.
Nikolai sat behind the massive oak desk like he'd been born to it, which I supposed he had. Maks hunched over his laptop at the side table, three phones and two tablets spread around him like a command center.
Sophie was notably absent.
"You sent her away," I said. Not a question.
"To her studio," Nikolai confirmed. "With Dmitry and two others. She's working on some photography project." His grey eyes—so like mine—held understanding. "Some things, wives don't need to hear."
Maks snorted. "Sophie would skin you if she heard you say that."
"Which is why she won't," Nikolai said dryly, then his expression hardened. "Show him."
Maks turned his laptop toward me. Communications, intercepted from channels we monitored. The kind of channels where you could buy anything—drugs, guns, people. Where life had price tags and death came with payment plans.
"Posted six hours ago," Maks said. "Through the usual organ-trafficking networks."
I read it once. Twice. The words rearranged themselves in my brain, but their meaning stayed the same.
ACQUISITION REQUEST - URGENT
Subject: Female, 26, medical training
