"Neither can you," Piero said suddenly. "Because you're making the same mistake everyone makes with the Monti family. You think we only have one kind of power."
Viktor's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"You're holding evidence of Giovanni Lombardo's crimes," Cesare said, picking up Piero's thread. "Evidence that also implicates Paola. But here's what you're forgetting—Giovanniis my father-in-law now. Which means his enemies are my enemies."
"So?"
"So the Kozlov family has enemies too. Lots of them." Cesare's voice dropped to something lethal. "The Bratva in Brighton Beach who you've been undercutting. The Albanians you screwed over in that arms deal last year. The Italians in Philadelphia who still want your head for the territory dispute."
Viktor's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes.
"What if all those enemies suddenly received very detailed information about your operations?" Piero continued. "Your routes. Your safe houses. Your weaknesses. The Monti family has decades of intelligence on you, Viktor. And if you release those documents about Paola—we release everything we have on you."
"Mutually assured destruction," Viktor said. "Is that your threat?"
"It's not a threat. It's reality." Cesare stepped forward. "You expose my wife, I expose you. To everyone. Your competitors. Your enemies. The FBI. All of it. And I guarantee you have more to lose than we do."
The silence stretched. Viktor's guards shifted nervously. This was no longer a negotiation—it was a standoff where both sides had nuclear options.
"You're willing to die over this?" Viktor asked quietly.
"Are you?" Cesare countered. "Because make no mistake—if those documents go public, I will dedicate the rest of my life to destroying you. Not your business. You. Personally. Your family in Moscow. Your operations worldwide. Everything you've built. I will burn it all down."
The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees.
Viktor studied Cesare for a long moment. Then his gaze shifted to me, assessing.
"She must be remarkable," Viktor said finally. "For you to threaten mutually assured destruction over forged documents and a teenage girl's accidental knowledge."
"She is."
"Very well." Viktor gestured to one of his men. "Give them the documents. All of them."
The guard hesitated. "Boss—"
"Do it."
The man retrieved a metal briefcase from somewhere behind the bar, set it on the coffee table. Opened it to reveal folders, USB drives, papers.
"Everything Bianca brought me," Viktor confirmed. "And the only copies, before you ask. I'm not stupid enough to play that game against you."
Giulio moved forward, began examining the contents. Checking for trackers, for deception.
"Why?" I asked Viktor. "Why give them up now?"
"Because your husband just reminded me of something important." Viktor's cold blue eyes met mine. "Sometimes the cost of winning is higher than the value of the prize. These documents would damage you, yes. But the war Cesare would wage in response?" He shook his head. "Not worth it. I prefer my enemies alive and profitable. Dead enemies generate no revenue."
"Smart," Cesare said without warmth.
"I like to think so." Viktor picked up his drink again. "But understand this—we're not friends. We're not allies. This is a professional courtesy. One Don to another. You've earned my respect tonight. Don't lose it."
"And Bianca?" I asked, looking at my sister still slumped on the couch.
"Take her. She's useless to me now." Viktor dismissed her with a wave. "Though I'd suggest keeping her far away from both your families. She's proven she can't be trusted."
Giulio confirmed the briefcase contents were complete. No trackers, no surprises.
"We're leaving," Cesare announced. "Bianca, get up."
