“When he had Adriana,” he says, “I was willing to give up a hell of a lot more than a truce.”
I look away from him. Straight ahead. Past Gabriel. Past the wall. Past the daylight stabbing into the room like accusation.
He’s right.
That’s the problem.
And I hate that he’s right because he says it like it’s simple, like this isn’t splitting me open right down the middle.
I built everything I am in opposition to a weak man. Adisloyalman.
A man who put his own appetites, his own secrets, his own selfishness above the Bratva and called it leadership while other people bled for it. I have spent years making sure no one can ever say that about me.
Not once.
Not ever.
The Bratva comes first. The machine comes first. The name comes first.
That’s what a Pakhan is.
That’s what I made myself into.
But all I can see is Ayla hanging limp between those men on the screen. Ayla with her head fallen back. Ayla unconscious. Ayla still with him while the sun climbs higher over the fucking city.
Territory can be taken back. Routes can be rebuilt. Product can be replaced.
She can’t.
“She matters,” Gabriel says, voice rough with blood, “but not enough to break your own rules for her?”
The words are barely out before I move.
I slam my fist into his face. His head snaps sideways against the restraint, blood spilling from his mouth onto his shoulder. The chair shudders against the tile with the force of it. Pietro looks away. Dimitri curses under his breath. Vaska doesn’t move.
“Don’t,” I say softly, breathing hard, “speak to me like you know a fucking thing about her.”
Gabriel spits blood again, this time with a grimace. “Then decide.”
My pulse hammers.
The room stretches thin. And from the wall, Ivan finally speaks.
“If it were my wife, Pakhan,” he says, voice flat and certain, “I’d make the truce before you finished arguing with me.”
I turn my head.
He pushes off the wall, broad arms folding across his chest. He doesn’t look away from me. Doesn’t hesitate.
“And if you tried to stop me,” he adds, “I’d go through even you to get her back.”
Silence fills the room, no one breathes. It’s a dangerous thing to say to me.
A dangerous thing to admit out loud.
But nobody argues.
Because every man here understands exactly what he means.
