I don’t answer right away. Part of me knows I should de-escalate, be the composed one, the man who doesn’t let pride dictate his moves. The other part, the one that’s been buried under years of silence and control, rises anyway.
“She doesn’t need my permission to speak,” I say.
The words land harder than a slap on his face and I’m loving it. A few people nearby stop pretending not to listen. Someone’s phone camera flickers at the edge of my vision.
Boris laughs again, but it’s not born out of humor. “You’ve gone soft, Morozov. I can see it. All that power, and now you let some girl from the streets talk for you.”
He steps closer until we’re almost chest to chest. I can feel his breath, the heat of it laced with vodka.
Kira moves before I do, just a fraction forward, like she’s going to say something, but I hold a hand slightly back to stop her. Myjaw is tight enough to ache. “If you insult her again, you’ll regret it.”
He smirks. “There he is. The Pakhan. I was starting to think you’d left your balls back in Brooklyn.”
Mikhail shifts behind me, half-ready to step in. I raise a hand without looking at him. “Don’t.”
The urge to hit Boris is sharp, too easy to give in to. But I’ve learned what happens when you give in to that first rush. You lose control, and when men like us lose control, people die. Still, my patience is a thread about to snap.
“You’ve made your point,” I manage to say quietly.
“Not yet.” He looks past me again, straight at Kira. “You don’t belong here, girl. This world will eat you alive. You think wearing my daughter’s ring makes you safe? It just paints a bigger target on your back.”
Kira doesn’t move. She’s pale, but her voice is steady. “Then I’ll learn to belong.”
Something flickers in Boris’s eyes—surprise, maybe, or annoyance that she didn’t crumble. “She’s got a mouth,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You should keep it busy doing something else before it gets her killed.”
My vision narrows for a second, everything else fading but the sound of his voice. I don’t think. I just react. My hand is at his collar before I realize it, pulling him forward an inch. The sound of fabric tearing cuts through the quiet.
“Say that again,” I say, low enough that only he can hear.
He grins, even as my grip tightens. “Careful, boy. Cameras.”
He’s right. There are eyes everywhere, phones, whispers, the faint sound of a door closing somewhere behind us. I release him slowly and try to regain my composure. He straightens his jacket, brushing invisible dust from his lapel.
Irina finally steps forward. “Father.” Her voice is smooth but thin, stretched tight. “That’s enough.”
He doesn’t look at her, but he steps back half an inch, enough to acknowledge she exists. Then to me: “You’ll regret making enemies where you had friends, Artyom.”
“We’ve never been friends,” I say.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. There’s no noise, no movement, just the hum of the air conditioner and the faint echo of distant footsteps. I can feel Kira’s hand brush my arm, just the ghost of a touch, and it’s enough to pull me back from the edge.
Boris’s eyes follow the motion. He sees too much. “She’ll be your downfall,” he says quietly. “Mark my words.”
I don’t answer. I just watch him turn and walk away, his daughter following half a step behind. Irina’s eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, unreadable. Then she’s gone.
The room exhales all at once. Conversations start again, the buzz of voices filling the space like water rushing into a cracked hull. Mikhail mutters something in Russian under his breath that sounds like “hell of a start.”
I don’t move. My pulse is still too high, the heat under my skin refusing to fade.
Kira’s standing beside me, staring at the marble floor like it holds all the answers she needs. Her hand is still hovering near my arm, as if she’s not sure she’s allowed to touch me. She doesn’t realize how much that hand steadies me.
“Are you all right?” I ask quietly.
She looks up, and the flash in her eyes almost stops me. “You didn’t have to defend me like that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t,” she says, and her voice cracks slightly on the last word. “You just made it worse.”
