I take the file flipping it open. Names and photos, including the two men I knocked unconscious. And Sofiya, listed as Aleksandr's courier and present.
But her alibi is solid. I made sure of it. Security footage shows her at Lush all night, and Aleksandr confirms she never left.
"I'll handle it," I say.
"I know you will." The Pakhan's eyes are on me, searching."You've always been loyal, Volk. Always done what needed to be done. Even when it was unpleasant."
"Yes."
"Even when it was a child."
The word hangs between us. Heavy. Accusatory. Testing.
"She wasn't a child by the time we finished with her," I say. Cold. Brutal. The kind of statement that makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
He holds my gaze. Ten seconds. Twenty. A lifetime of searching for cracks.
Finally, he looks away. "Go. Find who did this and bring them to me."
I leave before he can ask more questions and my mask slips. Before the violence simmering beneath the surface boils over and I do something stupid. Like kill him myself and end this entire charade right here and watch his empire burn.
But that's not my call. That's Sofiya's revenge. I'm just the weapon she doesn't know she's wielding yet.
Outside his office, I let myself breathe. The kind of deep, steady breath that keeps you from putting a bullet in someone's skull.
Anatoly waits in the hallway, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette despite the Packhan’s many orders not tosmoke in his house. He grins when he sees me, all teeth and malice. The grin of a man who enjoys his work too much.
"I take it we’re going to find Igor's killer?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Any leads?"
"We're interviewing everyone who was at the warehouse."
"Including that pretty courier?" Anatoly's grin widens. "The one with the nice ass? Aleksandr's new toy?"
My hands curl into fists , and it takes every ounce of control not to break his jaw right here. Not to slam his head into the wall until he stops moving, stops breathing, stops existing.She is mine.
I smile instead, cold and dangerous. "Yes. Including her."
"I'll handle that interview personally." Anatoly flicks ash on the expensive carpet. "Always wanted to get my hands on her. See if that pussy is as sweet inside as out."
"You'll do what I tell you to do." My voice drops, going quiet. The kind of quiet that precedes violence. "Which is to question the warehouse guards. Nothing else. Am I clear?"
Something flickers in Anatoly's eyes. Anger and frustration at knowing I outrank him. That I could end him without breaking a sweat.
"Clear," he mutters.
"Good. Get to work."
I watch him as he walks away. Another piece of garbage walking around in skin. Another dead man walking.
I should feel conflicted about it. Should feel some loyalty to these men I've worked with for years. We've bled together. Killed together. Built this empire together. But I don't. I feel nothing except the cold certainty that they deserve what's coming. That Sofiya's revenge is justice , and the world will be better once she's finished carving through them.
