Page 99 of Marked By the Mob

“He’s planning something,” Artur adds, leaning against the wall. “The question is what.”

I’ve been expecting this. Volkov doesn’t give up on assets he wants, and we’ve taken two from him now. Emma, who he spent months tracking and planning to acquire. And Krystal, who he trained for a year to be his perfect intelligence gatherer.

The man’s furious, and furious men make dangerous decisions.

“I need to meet with him,” I say, the decision forming even as I speak it. “Before this escalates into something we can’t control.”

Eduard’s jaw tightens. “That’s a risk.”

“Everything’s a risk right now.” I pull out my phone and start typing a message to one of my contacts who has connectionsto Volkov’s organization. “But an all-out war with him helps no one. We need to find common ground.”

“Common ground with a man who tried to buy Emma right in front of us?” Artur’s voice carries an edge. “Good fucking luck with that.”

“I’m not looking for friendship,” I say flatly. “I’m looking for a truce. Something that keeps both our operations running without constant conflict.”

The response to my message comes back within minutes. Volkov will meet this afternoon at a neutral location. No weapons, minimal security, just the two of us talking like civilized men instead of enemies preparing for war.

I don’t trust it for a second, but I go anyway.

The meeting place is a private club in the financial district. Volkov is already there when I arrive, seated in a leather chair near the window with a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

His pale gray watch my approach, assessing and calculating. “Novikov,” he greets with a nod.

I take the seat across from him without responding to the pleasantry. A server appears immediately, offering drinks I decline. This isn’t a social call.

“Let’s skip the bullshit,” I say, keeping my voice low and controlled. “You want Emma. We’re not giving her up. You want Krystal back. That’s not happening either. So where does that leave us?”

Volkov’s lips curve into something that might be a smile if it reached his eyes. “Direct. I appreciate that.” He takes a sip of his drink, letting the silence stretch. “You understand my position.I invested significant resources into acquiring and training both women. Their value to my operations is considerable.”

“And you understand mine,” I counter. “Emma isn’t a captive or an asset. She’s our woman. We care about her. And Krystal is her best friend, which makes this a family issue, not a business one.”

Something flickers in Volkov’s expression. Not quite understanding, but maybe recognition. “Family.”

“Yes.” I lean forward slightly, my hands resting on the arms of the chair. “You know what that means in our world. You know the lines we draw and the prices we pay to protect what’s ours.”

Volkov is quiet for a long moment, his pale eyes studying my face. “I had plans for Emma Moore. Specific plans that required her particular skills and access.”

“Those plans are dead,” I say flatly. “Find another way to accomplish whatever you were trying to do.”

“And Krystal?”

“Stays with us. She chose to leave you. We’re honoring that choice.”

Volkov’s jaw tightens, the first real crack in his controlled facade. “You’re asking me to walk away from significant investments.”

“I’m telling you that continuing to pursue them will cost you much more than you invested.” I hold his gaze without flinching. “We don’t want war with you, Volkov. But we’ll burn everything to the ground before we let you take either of them.”

The threat hangs between us, clear and absolute. For a heartbeat, I think he’s going to refuse. That this meeting willend with nothing accomplished except confirming we’re on a collision course.

Then Volkov sets down his glass with deliberate care. “I need something in return.”

“What?”

“Information.” His pale eyes are cold, calculating. “Emma Moore was investigating the auction network. She uncovered connections that go deeper than simple trafficking. I want to know what she found.”

My instinct is to refuse immediately. Giving Volkov access to Emma’s investigation feels like a betrayal. But if it buys us peace and keeps both women safe, maybe it’s worth considering.

“I’ll discuss it with her,” I say carefully. “But I’m not promising anything.”