Arseny watches me, waiting for my reaction. Waiting to see if I’ll break character. He should know better.
We walk out of the office in silence, the air between us heavy with unspoken words. The elevator ride is just as quiet, the mechanical hum the only sound. Outside, the sleek Maybachpulls up within minutes. Viktor steps out, opening the back door without a word.
I slide in, adjusting my cuffs. Arseny follows, his phone already in his hand. My mind calculates moves, countermoves, the shifting chess pieces of the Bratva empire.
“Tatiana?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Already there with Filipp. They’ve called in the family priest.”
Of course they have. My stepmother has always understood the power of symbolism. The faithful wife. The devoted son. The sacred rites. A staged tableau for the families to witness.
Arseny shifts slightly, watching me. “The families will expect you there.” Confusion flickers across his face when I don’t tell the driver to pull off. “Konstantin, your father doesn’t have much time. He’s dying.”
“My father has been dying for six months.” I turn to him, straightening my tie. “And I will not give Tatiana the satisfaction of seeing me rush to his bedside like a grieving child.”
“The families—”
“Will respect strength, not sentiment.” I cut him off. “Call Mikhail. Have him secure the mansion. No one in or out except family and our men. And I want our doctor there, monitoring everything.”
Arseny nods, his composure returning as he taps commands into his phone.
I pull out my phone and dial. The line barely rings before it’s answered. “Anya.”
“Mr. Belov?” The nanny’s voice is alert, professional.
“Where are they?”
“At school. I was just about to—”
“Bring them home. Now.”
A pause. A carefully measured breath. “All three?”
“Yes.”
Anya doesn’t ask questions. That’s why I trust her. “I’ll have them at the estate within the hour.”
I hang up without another word.
Alya, Nikolai, and Lev deserve the chance to see him before it’s too late. Even if they don’t yet understand how this world works. Even if part of me wants to shield them from it for just a little longer.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket. “Have our doctor on standby. I want reports from our people on the medical team every fifteen minutes.”
Arseny nods, already making the calls.
I turn to the window, watching the city outside, but seeing nothing.
ThePakhanis dying. The families will be circling like vultures. And I have no time for sentiment.
Yet all I can think about is Isabella Marquez.
The way she looked at me across my desk.
The way she’ll look beneath me in my bed.
I exhale slowly as I stare out the window.
Let the families prepare their power plays.
