Director Kozlova’s lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. “So glad you could finally join us, Mr. Zotov. We were just discussing your unauthorized execution of Marcus Moretti.”
Ivan’s hand tightened around mine. Not in fear—Ivan Zotov didn’t do fear—but in resolve, or maybe just to reassure me.
My gaze flickered to Vince, who wasn’t looking at Ivan at all. His focus was entirely on me, his brow furrowed with questions he hadn’t yet voiced. What happened with Marcus? What did Ivan do? And why? He glanced down at our interlaced fingers, then back up at me. The weight of his stare made me straighten my spine. I’d deal with my brother later.
“I take full responsibility for my actions,” Ivan said, his voice carrying through the room without effort. The calm confidence in his tone sent a shiver down my spine.
Director Kozlova didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “You executed a prisoner without authorization. You compromised ongoing intelligence operations. You’ve repeatedly disobeyed direct orders.” Her voice rose with each accusation. “Your rogue behavior has contributed to this organization becoming corrupt and in shambles. Do you have any concept of the damage you’ve caused?”
Ivan absorbed each verbal blow without flinching, without offering excuses. His face remained perfectly composed, his body language betraying nothing but calm acceptance of her fury. He was taking all of this for me. Without hesitation or regret.
My throat tightened with sudden emotion. I’d spent my life surrounded by powerful men—my father, my brothers, countless associates, and family members—but I’d never seen anyone willingly sacrifice everything that defined them for my sake. Not until Ivan.
“Marcus Moretti was a predator and a monster,” Ivan stated flatly. “As if the Paraskia isn’t built on corruption, creating chaos, and manipulation on a global level. Playing the moral-authority card now, after years of the organization looking the other way to whatever Grey and Marcus were doing, is pure hypocrisy. I eliminated him because it was right.”
Director Kozlova’s eyes narrowed. “Your job is not to decide what’s right, Zotov. Your job is to follow orders.”
“Not anymore.” Ivan’s voice remained steady. “I’m formally tendering my resignation from the Paraskia, effective immediately. Do what you have to do.”
The declaration landed like a bomb in the quiet room. I held my breath, half expecting security to rush in and restrain him. Instead, Anton moved across the room, his movement deliberate and unhurried.
“Where my brother goes, I go,” he stated, moving to stand beside Ivan.
My heart stuttered in my chest as Nina moved next, then Roman, then Mila. One by one, the Zotov siblings aligned themselves beside their brother, a unified front of deadly capability now standing opposed to the organization that had shaped them.
“You’re making a mistake,” Director Kozlova said, but her voice had lost its edge. For the first time, a flicker of insecurity crossed her face.
I couldn’t blame her. I should’ve asked Ivan more about her. I knew Valeria Kozlova was the black widow of the Kozlov family, one of the leading Bratva families. But didn’tIvan mention she was newly assigned to the position? She looked tough as nails, but I still knew way too little about what was actually going on with the whole Paraskia thing.
But from what I’d observed these last couple of days and from what I knew about the Zotovs, it was clear they weren’t just operatives. They’d earned their reputation in the underworld, so if everything they’d done was actually for the Paraskia, it was safe to say they were probably the backbone of the Paraskia’s most effective operations. Losing them probably meant a big loss of talent, training, and institutional knowledge for the organization.
I squeezed Ivan’s hand, feeling a surge of pride at his unwavering stance. This wasn’t just about defiance—this was a complete rejection of the system that had controlled him since childhood.
And he was doing it as much for himself as he was doing it for me.
The Paraskia leaders leaned together, whispered concerns passing between them as they recognized the tactical disaster unfolding. I analyzed their reactions—the subtle tells of panic, the rapid calculations of loss. They weren’t just losing operatives; they were potentially creating powerful enemies.
“As far as I see it, the Zotovs have served the Paraskia faithfully,” Vince’s voice cut through the murmurs, surprising me. “Whatever corruption and chaos you have in your organization, the Salvini family will only cooperate with a Paraskia that includes the Zotovs somehow.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned by my brother’s intervention. Vince’s gaze met mine briefly, something unreadable passing between us. Was he angry with me? Concerned? Itwas impossible to tell, but his support for Ivan was unmistakable—and unexpected.
“The Falcones and Morettis stand with the Salvinis on this,” Alex added, his voice carrying the weight of generations of power.
A silent glance passed between my brothers and Alex—a look loaded with meaning. I suddenly realized that Marcus Moretti might have been related to Alex. The understanding hit me like a slap: they weren’t just recognizing Ivan’s worth; they were protecting and standing by me. Despite everything, my family was closing ranks around me.
Director Kozlova’s perfect posture became rigid as she assessed this unexpected alliance. Her eyes darted between the Zotovs and my family, the scales of power visibly shifting before her.
“Perhaps,” she said finally, her voice carefully modulated, “we can discuss a new arrangement. A partnership structure that would benefit all parties.” Her gaze settled on me. “However, we have one condition: we want Ms. Salvini, as well; she’s part of the deal.”
“Absolutely not,” Ivan said immediately, his voice hardening. “Isabella stays out of this. Nonnegotiable.”
“She’s not part of any deal,” Vince agreed, for once aligned with Ivan in their shared protectiveness.
I felt a familiar frustration bubbling up—the men in my life deciding for me without even consulting me. Not that I had any inclination to work for the Paraskia. Not that I couldn’t understand where they were coming from. Ivan didn’t want me anywhere near the organization that had shapedhim into a weapon. He wanted me safe and protected from the life he’d led. And Vince, as well. But it was nevertheless irritating as hell.
Before I could speak, Fee appeared at my side, tugging me gently away from Ivan. Jemma joined us in the corner, their bodies creating a small barrier between me and the arguing men.
“What doyouwant, Isa?” Fee asked quietly. “Not what they want. You?”
