Page 60 of Prey of the Bratva

No one moved at first.

Iosif’s gaze flicked toward me, calm but edged with something colder than anger. Avgust stood half a step ahead of Timofey, already coiled and ready for escalation. Across from them, Nico and Jarek had positioned themselves without needing instruction, their silence louder than any threat. They were the first ones to keep their pistols on the table outside. Fyodor lingered just behind them all, watching and assessing. The last conversation I had with him before he had left was fresh in my mind, but I was a different person now. I knew I had been wrong.

“This is not a negotiation,” I added when none of the Chernykh brothers made an attempt to surrender their guns.Fyodor went ahead and did it wordlessly. Iosif reached for his weapon next, setting it down on the table between us. The sound was quiet and heavy, but enough to establish some sort of neutrality between us.

I had no desire to watch my safehouse turn into a battleground.

Avgust followed, though his movement was sharper and less willing. Timofey sighed under his breath but complied anyway, dropping his weapon with less care. Steel abandoned for the illusion of control. I stepped forward and did the same, and the room shifted after that. For some reason, rather than appearing calmer, it only seemed more dangerous. Misha finally came inside the room, her gaze running over everyone before she stepped forward into the center. Exactly where she belonged. Every gaze in the room followed her.

“You have been missing for weeks,” Avgust said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was tight with restrained fury. “And we find you walking out of a compromised warehouse with Kliment Romanov.”

His eyes cut towards me, sharp and accusing.

“I think explanations are overdue.”

“They are,” Misha said before I could respond.

Her voice didn’t rise and didn’t waver. It didn’t need to, as silence fell around us again, and she finally started to speak.

“I have been looking for Sergei Volkov.”

The name landed like a crack through the room, and I watched the shift happen in real time. Iosif stilled, clearly recognizing the name from bratva circles. I could see the slight tightening at the jaw and the fraction of a second where calculation paused. Avgust’s expression darkened immediately,and Timofey stopped moving altogether. Even Nico’s posture adjusted, subtle but present. Nico and Jarek were still unaware of the situation as well.

Misha didn’t pause.

“He’s running an international trafficking network through port systems. It is not small-scale or isolated but rather structured and clearly well-funded and protected.”

No one spoke. No one interrupted. Because they understood what that meant.

She stepped closer to the table, her hands resting lightly against the edge, her gaze moving between them without hesitation.

“I traced it back months ago through shipment codes, offshore accounts, and auction records.” Her voice remained steady. “I first noticed the exact symbol on the video footage showing Ilana’s auction, and then I noticed the same symbol resurfacing in port activity here.”

Avgust’s expression hardened. His shoulders tightened, and attention sharpened in a way that had nothing to do with power and everything to do with something far more personal.

“Anton Sidorov is Volkov’s right hand and is managing the Miami operations. He’s Volkov’s direct subordinate and is probably running the entire international network for him. He’s been moving people under medical export classifications because they are easy to push across borders.”

Timofey let out a slow breath. “That’s… smart.”

“Exactly,” she accepted. “No one looks closely at medical shipments unless they have a reason to.”

Iosif’s voice cut in then, quieter than before. “And you’ve been doing this alone? You have been looking for Volkov andSidorov to destroy the trafficking network once and for all, I assume?”

“Yes,” Misha replied, simple and precise. She hadn’t tried to soften anything for anyone and had presented facts as facts.

Avgust stepped forward immediately. “That must end now, Misha. You have no idea what you are stepping into. I don’t know about Sidorov, but Volkov is a force, and he isn’t someone you can fight with alone.”

Misha didn’t move. “No.”

“This is not a discussion, Misha,” Lukyan pointed, standing up. “If you could step back, all of us can take care of this operation for you, and you won’t have to risk your life again and again in front of a man like Volkov.”

“This is my operation, Lukyan. I will do anything but abandon it. I have been working and researching for months now, and I have managed to gather my own team and my own support. I refuse to let go of all my hard work because you all believe that I am too fragile to handle it on my own.

The words landed hard.

“You don’t get to decide that, Misha,” Avgust snapped.

“I have already decided that, and none of you can dissuade me.”