Sokolov turns back to me.
For years, I have been the sword of this organization. I’ve ruled the streets, spilled the blood, and acted as a king in theshadows while these old men sat in their high towers and held the clock over my head.
But looking at the millions in artillery at my feet, Sokolov knows things have permanently changed.
Sokolov lowers his head in a gesture of absolute submission. “The war is won,” Sokolov announces. “You’ve bled for this family, Konstantin. You carried the weight of the crown long before it was yours. Today, the Council steps aside. We formally grant you the Throne. Long live thePakhan.”
Behind him, the rest of the Council bows. To my left, Ivan, Lev, and every soldier on the dock drop to their knees, bowing to the king they already knew I was.
Pakhan.
The absolute ruler of the underworld. The title is finally catching up to the man. The throne I spent twenty years bleeding and killing for is permanently mine.
The power settles over my shoulders, cold and absolute. But I don't stand alone to accept it.
My hand extends toward her, and Helena places her fingers in mine without hesitation. Our hands interlock, and I draw her forward, positioning her at the center of the power beside me.
My grip tightens, not in possession, but in declaration.
Every Elder, every captain, every soldier on that dock is forced to look at her. To see her standing at my side.
To understand exactly what she is to me.
They aren't just bowing to a King today. They're bowing to my Queen.
26
KONSTANTIN
The docks are nearly empty when I arrive. Frost coats the railings and the harbor churns black beneath the lights. Salt mist clings to my coat as I step onto the pier.
Behind us, theLady Anastasialooks like a ghost ship. I can still feel the echo of the Brotherhood’s cheers in my chest. They called mePakhan. They bowed until their heads almost touched the dirty concrete.
I keep a tight grip on Helena’s hand as I lead her toward the convoy. The gravel crunches under my boots with a sound of finality.
Ivan stands by the SUV with his head bowed, his breath visible in the freezing air. He doesn't say anything. No one does.
The respect is so thick it's suffocating.
I slide into the back and pull Helena in after me. The door shuts with a thud that silences the world.
The inside of the armored SUV is a sealed chamber of black leather and steel.
Outside, the city is a blur of streetlights and slush, but inside, the silence rolls like the sea.
I don't let go of my wife’s hand. I sit with my back against the seat, my fingers gripped with hers so tightly my hand is starting to ache. I can feel the faint pulse in her wrist. It’s the only thing in this world that still makes me feel human.
I'm thePakhan.
The word is a cold weight in my chest. I've spent twenty years carving a path to this title through my enemies. I've bled in the dirt, buried my father in a grave he didn't deserve, and turned my heart to ice just to survive this long.
Now the crown is sitting on my head, heavy and absolute. I look at the skyline, the skyscrapers, and the back alleys, and I don't see a city anymore. I see a map of my own sins. Every street corner is written in my name.
Helena. The streetlights flash across her face and highlight the sharp line of her jaw.
She hasn't said a word since she stood beside me on the docks and watched the most powerful men in the Brotherhood drop to their knees.
She isn’t the girl I dragged out of her father’s house anymore. That fragility is gone, replaced by a cold poise.
