"This is insane?—"
"This is how it is." I lean in and press my lips to her forehead, my finger still pressed to the softness of her mouth. It’s a tender gesture, at odds with the anger pulsing through me right now."Go back to your room. Lock the door. Don't come out until I come get you."
"What are you going to do?"
"What I always do." I release her, and step back. "Remind them who's in charge."
—
The main roomis packed when I arrive exactly one hour later.
Every man in my organization is here. Soldiers, lieutenants, guards, drivers, all of them watching me with varying degrees of curiosity and concern… and calculation.
I stand at the front of the room and let the silence stretch. I let them wonder what I’m about to say, let remember who I am and what I'm capable of.
"I understand there are concerns," I say finally. "About the captive, and about the war with Volkov and Baumann. About my decisions regarding both."
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. No one speaks directly, but I can feel the tension.
"Some of you think we should kill her, and eliminate the complication." I let my gaze sweep across the room. "Some of you think I'm making decisions based on emotion rather than strategy. That I'm putting this organization at risk for a woman."
More murmurs. Louder now. Someone in the back shifts and whispers to the man next to him.
"Alexander Baumann has been arming our enemies," I say flatly. "He's been coordinating with Volkov, supplying weapons, helping them target our operations. We have proof, intercepted communications. And now, he’s fully committed. If she dies, he’ll use that as an excuse. He’ll say he has no choice, because we killed his daughter. Her death stops nothing. Volkov haswanted this war for a long time, and now he has an ally that can strengthen him. This is not about her living or dying.”
The whispers stop. I move forward, closer to the crowd. "And now that we have her, now that we have leverage over him, some of you want to throw that away. Want to kill her and give him exactly what he wants—a reason to escalate even further, without any possibility for negotiation."
"She's a distraction," someone calls out. I don't see who. "She's making you weak."
"Is she?" I smile, and it's not a pleasant expression. "Because from where I'm standing, I just executed a traitor this morning. I killed a man who was feeding information to Baumann and Volkov. I sent a message that betrayal has consequences. Does that seem weak to you?"
Silence.
"The girl stays.” My voice is cold and final. "She's leverage. A reminder to Baumann that he can wage his war, but he does it knowing I have his daughter. Knowing what I could do to her if he pushes too far."
"And if the men don't agree?" The voice comes from the left. I turn and see Alexei—the same man who tested me in that meeting, still pushing. Still testing.
"Then the men can leave." I meet his eyes and hold his gaze. "Anyone who doesn't like my decisions is free to walk out that door right now. I won't stop you or hunt you down. You can go find another organization to join. Anotherpakhanto follow."
No one moves.
"But if you stay," I continue, "if you choose to remain part of this organization, then you follow my orders. All of them, without question or debate. And that includes the order that the girl is off-limits. Anyone who touches her, anyone who threatens her, anyone who even looks at her wrong—they answer to me. Personally." I let that sink in. "The girl is mine. My decision, myresponsibility, my problem to manage. And if any of you have an issue with that, now is the time to speak."
The silence is absolute. I wait, and give them the chance to challenge me. To push back. To test my authority one more time. No one does.
"Good." I turn to leave, then stop and look back. "One more thing. Timofey is dead because he betrayed us. Because he put his own interests above the organization. If anyone else is working with Baumann or Volkov, come forward now. Confess, and I'll show mercy. Stay silent, and when I find you—and I will find you—it will be much worse than a bullet to the head."
I walk out without waiting for a response.
—
Liesl is pacingwhen I walk into her room. She spins around when I enter, eyes wide, face pale. "What happened?"
"It's handled."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the men understand that you're off-limits. That anyone who touches you answers to me. That this isn't up for debate."
