But I don’t look away.
I don’t soften it.
Because this isn’t the moment for that.
This is war. Her gaze flicks between me and Lukyan now, like she’s weighing whether either of us is truly hearing her—or just reacting.
Then she speaks again.
“This isn’t just about revenge,” she says quietly. “Or power.”
I frown slightly, but I don’t interrupt.
“It’s about control,” she continues.
Her hands tighten at her sides, like she’s forcing herself to stay steady.
“According to Petrov family laws, Anton can claim leadership of the organization after killing my father. But the assets—the fortune, the shares, everything tied to the empire….”
Her jaw tightens.
“They remain legally bound to me.”
Silence.
Even Lukyan doesn’t speak.
My expression hardens as I process it.
Valeria continues anyway, voice lower now.
“Until I sign them away, he doesn’t fully own anything.”
A beat.
“He can sit on the throne,” she says, almost bitterly, “but he can’t touch the wealth behind it.”
Now it clicks.
The reason for the obsession.
The escalation.
The message in flesh.
The movement in my city.
This isn’t just domination for Anton.
It’s an incomplete victory.
A power he can’t finish claiming.
And that makes him unstable.
Dangerous in a different way.
My frown deepens slightly as I look at her.
