“Rafa.” He looks up as I enter, noting my appearance with sharp eyes. “You look like hell. Rough night?”
“Something like that.”
“Sit.” He gestures to the chair across from his desk, the same one where he gave me this assignment months ago. “Tell me what happened.”
I settle into the leather, choosing my words carefully. “Yegor Durov is dead.”
Vito’s expression doesn’t change, but his stillness becomes more pronounced. “How?”
“I killed him.”
“Why?”
“Because he threatened Kira. Specifically. Graphically.” I meet Vito’s gaze directly. “And because he was blackmailing both our families with evidence that could have destroyed us all.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Financial records. Operational details. Enough documentation to put most of our organizations in federal prison for the next century.”
Vito leans back in his chair, processing this information with the same methodical precision he brings to all strategic problems. “And this evidence?”
“Secured. Multiple locations, but we know where to find it.”
“We?”
“Kira helped identify the storage sites. She’s been investigating Durov independently for weeks.”
“Has she?” Vito’s tone carries a note I can’t quite identify. “And what else has your fiancée been investigating?”
This is the moment. The choice between protecting Kira and protecting my family. Between personal loyalty and blood obligation.
Between the man I was and the man I’m becoming.
“Her own family’s involvement in the thefts,” I say quietly. “The Petrovs have been planning to betray us from the beginning.”
Vito’s stillness becomes absolute. “Explain.”
I lay it out systematically—Alexei’s shell companies, Vadim’s coordination with Durov, the plan to eliminate the Rosso family once they’d gained sufficient intelligence about our operations. I include everything except Kira’s emotional involvement, her genuine ignorance of the full scope, and her choice to stand with me against her own blood.
“Interesting,” Vito says when I finish. “And Kira’s role in all this?”
“She was kept in the dark. Used as an unwitting intelligence asset.”
“Or she’s a better actress than you realize.”
“She’s not acting.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “I’ve seen her genuine reactions, Vito. Her shock when she learned the truth, her anger at being manipulated. She’s innocent of the conspiracy.”
“Innocent of knowledge, perhaps. But innocent of loyalty to her family? That remains to be seen.”
“She chose me.” The words come out more forcefully than I intend. “When it mattered, when she had to pick a side, she chose me over them.”
Vito studies my face with uncomfortable intensity. “And you? Which side will you pick when forced to choose between her and us?”
The question hangs in the air like a blade. Because this is what tonight has really been about—not just reporting intelligence, but declaring where my ultimate loyalty lies.
“Both,” I say finally. “I want to protect both.”
“That may not be possible.”
