No pleasantries. No explanation.
That tone tells me everything I need to know—this isserious.
I dress quickly in a dark shirt and trousers, slip on my coat, and nod to the two men waiting in the hallway. They fall in behind me as we head down to the SUV. The city is just beginning to wake, the streets still quiet enough that the drive takes only minutes.
The coffee shop is small and unassuming, the kind of place that opens early for shift workers. I choose a corner table with my back to the wall. Ivan arrives shortly after, sliding into the seat opposite me with two black coffees already in hand. He looks tired, eyes sharp despite the hour.
“Talk,” I say, keeping my voice low.
Ivan leans in, elbows on the table. “Two of my Mexican contacts reached out separately. Both confirmed the same thing. Cartel weapons are moving north. Heavy stuff. Assault rifles, grenades, even some RPGs. They are staging for a full-scale assault on the city. Not small hits anymore. Make no fucking mistake, this is preparation for war against the Russian families.”
The words settle like lead in my gut.
I sensed it coming, but hearing it confirmed makes the threat feel immediate.
The cartel is not testing us anymore. They are arming for something bigger—something meant to break us entirely.
I take a slow sip of the bitter coffee, letting the heat steady me. “Do they know who on the Russian side is working with them? Someone must be feeding them information, opening doors. A cartel wouldn’t move like this otherwise. It’s unheard of.”
Ivan shakes his head. “They are being careful. The contacts only know pieces. But the weapons are definitely coming in through routes that should be locked down by us or Viktor’s people. Someone is helping them from the inside.”
I meet his gaze directly. “Is it Viktor?”
The question hangs between us. Ivan does not flinch, but I watch his face carefully for any flicker.
“No,” he says firmly. “Viktor has no love for the Mexicans. He lost two good men to them only last year. His hatred runs deep. If he is moving against anyone right now, it is not by siding with the cartel.”
I lean back, studying him. Ivan has been useful—loyal even—but right now trust feels like a luxury I cannot afford.
Is he telling the truth? Could he be playing both sides? Could Viktor?
The thought twists in my chest. My father trusted too easily toward the end and paid for it with his life. the last thing I am going to do is not learn from my father’s mistakes.
I set the cup down.
“I want a one-on-one meeting with Viktor,” I say. “No security on either side.Nothing. Just him and me. This evening, outside the city. You will provide the exact location at the last minute on my instruction. Make it happen.”
Ivan nods once. “I’ll reach out to him. If he agrees, I will send you the details when it is set.”
We both stand. I extend my hand. Ivan shakes it firmly, his grip steady. On the surface, everything looks as it should—alliance, respect, shared purpose. But inside, a cold certainty settles over me.
Right now, I cannot trustanyone.
Not fully. Not Ivan. Certainly not Viktor.
The war is coming, and in times like these, loyalty is the first thing that fractures.
I leave the coffee shop with my men flanking me, the morning light now harsher against the buildings.
The day stretches ahead with preparations—meetings, security sweeps, quiet inquiries into my own ranks. But beneath it all runs a deeper current of unease.
By early afternoon, that unease drives me somewhere I know I should not go…
Teddy’s apartment.
I tell myself it is only to check on him after last night. I tell myself it has nothing to do with the gnawing fear that tonight’s meeting with Viktor could go wrong—that this could be the last time I see the sweet boy if things turn bloody.
I do not voice any of my fears.
