His hands curl into fists at his sides before he forces them open again.
“He believes I’m overreaching,” Ivan continues, his voice calm again, but there’s tension riding just beneath it. “He believes I require correction.”
“And you’re going to let himcorrectyou?” she says, shock creeping into anger.
“I’m not letting anything happen,” he replies. “I’m analyzing the board.”
“You’re analyzing this while your own man is bleeding out there?”
“He stepped forward at the wrong time.”
“He stepped forward for you,” she insists.
“He made a choice.”
Lila’s breath hitches. “And Arkady shot him to show you he could,” she says again, more quietly now.
“Yes.”
“And what does that make you?” she asks, her voice thinning but not retreating.
Ivan’s eyes darken. “It makes me patient.”
“Or it makes you smaller than you thought.” The words leave her before she can soften them.
He takes a slow step toward her. “You forget yourself.”
“No,” she says, and to her credit, she doesn’t step back. “I remember exactly who you told me you were.”
He reaches for her then, closing the space between them without raising his voice. His hand closes around her upper arm, his fingers pressing deep enough that I see her shoulder tighten.
“You will not challenge me,” he says quietly.
She doesn’t shrink. Instead, she pulls. “Let. Go.”
“Arkady believes I need a reminder,” Ivan continues, his voice dangerous and close to her ear. “He believes I’m not disciplined. I don’t require discipline.”
“You just proved that you do,” she says, the words strained but clear.
His fingers tighten further, and I see her wince.
I step between them and press my palm flat against his chest, not striking or shoving, but creating space that didn’t exist a second ago.
“Let her go.”
He looks down at my hand and then back up to my face, and the room feels unnaturally quiet around us. When his attention comes back to me, it isn’t dismissive or casual. It’s calculating.
“You’re inserting yourself unnecessarily,” he warns.
“I’m preventing you from doing something you’ll regret,” I return.
His eyes narrow, not in surprise, but in assessment. For a second, I think he might test it. Push harder just to prove he can.
Instead, he adjusts his grip. He glares at me and doesn’t look away. Then his fingers loosen, and he releases her.
Lila steps back immediately, rubbing her arm where he held her, but she doesn’t retreat behind me.
“This ends when I say it does,” he tells her, his voice quiet but unmistakable. “You will not challenge me again.”
