Page 106 of The Pakhan’s Debt by Leona White

Maksim looks around once. “Then act like it.”

The words settle over the table, and a chair creaks near the Morettis as one of their men shifts his weight by the wall. Every hand stays where I can see it, every face stays controlled, and my skin crawls because a raised gun would at least tell me where the danger is coming from.

Sergei sits. “Fine. Let’s stop wasting the evening.”

Maksim pulls out my chair himself, so I sit before men can keep measuring my stomach. He takes the seat beside me, and Leonid remains just behind us with his folder under one hand.

Moretti leans forward a little as we take our seats. Karpov watches from his place near the back wall.

Mancini opens a folder. “We’re here to settle access.”

Maksim keeps his eyes on him. “You’re here because you asked for talks.”

Mancini gives a short laugh. “We didn’t come here to trade manners.”

“No one invited you for them,” Maksim says.

Sergei raises one hand. “Enough. The practical matter is simple.” Pride shines on his face, the kind men wear when they mistake ownership for achievement. “Her name touches filings I designed, holdings Volkov now controls, and future continuity none of you can ignore.”

Moretti leans in slightly.

Sergei notices. His mouth lifts by a fraction. “That is why men like Moretti come to the table,” he says. “For access. My daughter is valuable because she opens doors men have spent years trying to force.”

My hand moves under the table before I can stop it. Maksim catches it there, his palm covering my knuckles.

Mancini sees it.

“That future is why this must be settled now,” he says. “Before police pressure grows, regulators step in, and your family bleeds in front of everyone.”

“Say that again, and we’ll settle more than access tonight.” Maksim’s voice doesn’t move, and every man hears it.

Moretti spreads his hands. “I speak plainly. Your estate was breached. A senior man turned. The architect remains alive.” His gaze shifts across the seated men, and a few shoulders tighten. “The woman is listed, and she carries a line every man here understands. Pretending otherwise helps no one.”

He sits back and avoids looking at me.

I look at him. “I’m right here.”

His eyes come to me. “Yes. That’s why we came.”

A low stir moves through the room. Karpov lifts two fingers, and the sound drops.

“Gentlemen,” Karpov says. “The longer her status stays open, the more pressure lands on the Volkov house.”

Maksim turns his head. “Your concern is noted.”

Karpov gives a small nod, but his eyes stay on Maksim. “Concern keeps men alive.”

“No,” Maksim says. “Loyalty does.”

Karpov’s jaw shifts.

“You misunderstand my loyalty,” he says.

Sergei smiles faintly. “You’ve always mistaken loyalty for ownership, Maksim.”

Maksim doesn’t answer.

Sergei turns to me again, and the father face comes back.