There is a short pause on the line. Then a low laugh.
“So you finally did your homework,” he says. “Good. I was afraid you’d stay blind forever.”
“You hid under new names,” I say. “You still left your fingerprints on my house.”
“I built half your first house,” he answers. “You just never wrote my name on the door.”
My jaw clenches. I remember the skinny boy who slept two bunks away, the young man who carried messages in the early days, the worker who asked for a bigger cut until I froze him out. I remember the report that said he stole small sums and sold minor routes. We wrote him off as a rat who took crumbs and ran.
We were wrong.
Kirill clears his throat. “Pakhan,” he says quietly, “this is live or recorded?”
“Live,” Ilya says at once. “Very live. I wouldn’t miss this.”
I motion Kirill to stay quiet. I stare at the box.
“You took my cottage,” I say in a calm voice. “You took my men and my partner.”
“And you survived all of it,” Ilya says. “You always do. That’s why you’re fun.”
Fun. He says it in a calm tone that makes my skin crawl.
“What do you want?” I ask. “You already proved your point.”
“There is more than one point,” he says. “First, I wanted you off balance. Done. Second, I wanted you to know someone from your own roots can stand over you. Done. Third, I want you to watch your old world fall piece by piece. That part is in progress.”
“You talk in circles,” I say. “You always did. Focus. Where is Raina?”
He clicks his tongue. “Straight to the heart,” he says. “You’re not going to ask why I did this first?”
“I don’t care why,” I say. “I already know the shape. You wanted more. You took a different road. Fine. You still breathe because I let you walk once. That mistake ends tonight. Where is she?”
Kirill shifts his weight. He is ready to move as soon as I give a direction.
Ilya sighs. “Always so cold,” he says. “Even when we were boys. You never cried. You never begged. You just clenched your teeth and pushed through. That makes you good at power. It makes you bad at people. You never saw the ones under your feet.”
“I saw you,” I say. “I pulled you out of the snow more than once. I gave you a jacket. I gave you work.”
“You gave me scraps,” he says. “You gave me risk and a pat on the head. You kept the big table for yourself.”
“You stole from that table,” I say. “You sold my routes.”
He lets that sit for a moment.
“We can argue history later,” he says. “Right now, you want something from me. That gives me joy. You always hated asking.”
“I am not asking,” I say. “I am making a deal. You know I keep my word. One time for one time.”
He chuckles. “You sound almost honest,” he says. “Go on,Seryozha. Make your offer.”
My lungs burn, but I keep my voice steady.
“You show me where she is,” I say. “You let me take her alive. In return, I stop hunting your people tonight. I pull my hand back from your known accounts. I call off anything that would burn your outer network. I give you space while I deal with my own house.”
Kirill looks at me like I slapped him. He knows I don’t give ground easily.
“You think I need your mercy,” Ilya says.
