Page 59 of Prey of the Bratva

I ignored that. My focus stayed on Iosif.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

“Neither should you.”

Fair. Behind me, I felt the subtle shift of my team adjusting position. They were waiting for my orders. Kliment spoke then, his voice cutting through the tension cleanly.

“You’re blocking our exit.”

Iosif didn’t look at him immediately, but when he did, it was slow.

“You don’t have an exit,” he said.

“Come here,” Avgust said, beckoning me to step forward. His words did not sound like a request but a command, and yet I didn’t move. I wasn’t going to.

“I’m not done here.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t really understand what’s happening here, but one thing I know for sure is that you are done and you are coming home.”

“No.”

The word landed harder than anything else that had been said so far.

Lukyan exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “This is getting very inconvenient.”

“Enough,” Iosif said quietly. His gaze shifted between Kliment and me, calculation moving behind his eyes faster than most people would even notice.

“What is happening here, Misha?” he asked finally.

“We will need to sit down so I can explain it to you properly,” I replied.

“You’re coming home, and you can explain everything there,” he said.

I shook my head once again. “No.”

It was not defiance but decision. I couldn’t go back home. Not like this.

“Is this his influence?” Avgust asked sharply.

“No,” I said before Kliment could respond. “This is my own decision. I am ready to talk to you and tell you guys everything, but I will do that on neutral ground. Not at home.”

Silence cracked again, sharper this time.

“Fine,” Iosif said. “Where then?”

“We will be going to Kliment Romanov’s safe house. After all, that is where I have been staying for so long.”

Chapter 16 - Kliment

“We need to head inside.” My voice carried low but absolute as I stepped through the safe house entrance, not bothering to look back to see if they would follow.

I already knew they did. Misha had made sure of that with her conditions.

As the Chernykh brothers, Fyodor, Nico, and Jarek, stepped inside the house, the tension entered with them. It was thick and immediate, dragging history behind it like something sharp and unfinished. Misha had already sent her team away, and my men were all back at their posts. The house had no one but us. I could feel the tension settle into the walls, the floor, and the very structure of the house.

This was neutral ground. In theory. In reality, nothing about this was neutral.

“Weapons,” I said, stopping just inside the main room.