"Stay with me," Renat says as he steps into the open space and leads me past the reception and down a wide corridor. "Don't look at anyone. Don't speak to anyone. Just stay with me."
I nod and take his offered hand, letting him pull me close as we walk toward the far end.
The men at the door nod at Renat but their eyes linger on me, assessing, calculating. I press closer to Renat's side, and his arm comes around my waist.
"She's mine," he says quietly, but there's steel in his voice. "Spread the word."
They nod again, and then we're through the door.
We step into a large room that screams power and money. Everything is polished marble and dark wood, expensive art on the walls. Crystal glasses line a bar in the far corner, sparkling in the light from the wall of windows.
“Brother,” Renat says, sounding bored. I frown up at him, then turn to the man behind the desk who looks less than impressed.
“Renat,” he responds before turning to me.
Renat
Adrik is waiting behind his massive oak desk, and he's not alone.
My other brother, Dariy stands to his right, arms crossed, his expression carefully neutral.
Adrik looks every inch the leader of our family. Impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, his dark hair swept back, his face unreadable. But I know him well enough to see the fury simmering beneath the surface.
"Renat." He doesn't stand. Doesn't offer a greeting. Just says my name like an accusation.
I keep Ava tucked against my side, my hand firm on her hip. She's trembling slightly, but she doesn't pull away.
"Adrik."
"And this must be the girl who's caused so much trouble." His eyes flick to Ava, cold and assessing. "Daughter of the traitor."
Ava flinches, and I feel rage spike through me. I tighten my grip on her waist.
"Careful," I say quietly.
Adrik's eyebrow lifts. "Careful? You shoot two federal agents, start a war with the FBI, and refuse direct orders to bring her to a secure location. And you're telling me to be careful?"
"I'm telling you to watch how you speak about what's mine."
Silence fills the room. Dariy shifts his weight.
"Yours," Adrik repeats slowly. "She's leverage. A tool. Not yours."
"She's both." I pull Ava even closer, making my claim unmistakable. "And if you want my cooperation in drawing out her father, you'll treat her with respect."
"Cooperation?" Adrik stands now, his hands flat on the desk. "You don't get to negotiate, little brother. You follow orders. That's how this works."
"Not anymore."
The words hang in the air like a bomb about to detonate.
Daniy mutters something in Russian with a shake of his head.
Adrik stares at me for a long moment, then laughs. It's not a pleasant sound.
"You've lost your mind," he says. "Completely lost your fucking mind over a piece of ass you've known for less than twenty-four hours."
I'm moving before I think, releasing Ava to plant my hands on his desk, leaning in close enough to see my reflection in his cold eyes.
