"That too." He refills his mug, the coffee steaming in the cold air. "There are three men who could make a play for your position. Two of them are smart enough to wait and see if you resurface. The third is ambitious and stupid, which makes him dangerous."
I process this, my mind working through implications I don't fully understand but instinctively recognize. "And you? Where do you stand in all this?"
"With you. Always with you." His voice is firm, certain. "I've been holding things together as best I can, but I'm yourSovietnik, not your replacement. People respect me, but they don't fear me the way they fear you. There's a difference."
Another memory flashes. A boardroom, men in expensive suits watching me with a mixture of respect and terror. My voice, calm and quiet, explaining why someone's proposal won't work. The way everyone leans forward to hear me, hanging on every word. The power in that silence, in making them come to me instead of raising my voice to reach them.
"I was good at this," I say. "At being Pakhan."
"You were the best." Danil sets down his mug. "Ruthless when necessary, strategic always, and just enough mercy to keep people loyal instead of just afraid."
The bedroom door opens, and Maya emerges. She's wearing sleep pants and a thermal shirt, the fabric hanging loose on her smaller frame. Her blonde hair is mussed from sleep, and her eyes are still heavy-lidded.
She's gorgeous. Even anxious and exhausted, she makes my chest tight just looking at her.
Her gaze moves between Danil and me, and I see the wariness there, the fear she's trying to hide.
"Morning," she says, her voice rough. "Am I interrupting?"
"No." I cross to her, unable to resist the pull. My hand finds the small of her back, and she leans into the touch despite the tension in her shoulders. "Coffee?"
"Please."
I pour her a mug while she settles at the kitchen table. Danil joins her, and I notice the way his eyes track her movements. Not sexual, but analytical.
"Sleep well?" he asks her.
"Fine." The lie is obvious.
"The storm should break today," I say, trying to ease the tension. "Roads might be passable by tomorrow."
Maya's fingers tighten on her mug. "That's good."
But she doesn't sound like it's good. She sounds like the idea of the roads clearing terrifies her.
Danil leans back in his chair, and I notice the way Maya's eyes flick to his chest, to the breadth of his shoulders. Not attraction, I don't think, but awareness of his size, his potential for violence.
Smart girl.
Another memory hits, stronger this time. A woman across a desk from me, beautiful and terrified, begging for her husband's life. My hands folded on the polished wood, my voice calm as I explain why mercy isn't possible. The way her face crumples when she realizes I won't be moved. The cold satisfaction of maintaining control, of proving that emotion doesn't sway me.
I blink, and I'm back in the kitchen. Maya is watching me with concern, and Danil's expression has shifted to something knowing.
"You remembered something," Danil says. Not a question.
"A woman. Begging me for something I wouldn't give her." The memory leaves a bitter taste. "I felt nothing. Just cold calculation."
Maya's face goes pale. She stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "I need to get some air."
The door closes behind her, and silence settles over the kitchen like snow.
"The man you were doesn't do domestic bliss," Danil says on a long sigh. "He doesn't fall in love. He doesn't let anyone get close enough to matter. And the man you're becoming can't survive in our world. He's too soft. Too vulnerable."
The words hit like physical blows because they're true. I can feel it, the split inside me. The cold, calculating Pakhan who made decisions without hesitation and this newer version who watches Maya sleep and feels his chest ache at the thought of losing her.
"What if I don't want to go back?" The question surprises me as much as it seems to surprise him.
Danil turns from the window, his expression serious. "Then you'd better be prepared for war. Because the people looking for you won't stop. And the enemies you made won't forget. You can't just walk away from being Pakhan. That's not how this works."
