Page 16 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

NICK

"And what happens if she becomes a liability anyway?"

The question hangs in the air between us, heavy and dangerous. I watch Alex and Russ carefully, gauging their reactions.

The atmosphere in my office shifts immediately, becoming denser, more charged.

This isn't just about a woman anymore.

This is about security and trust, and whether we can afford any weakness while we're trying to build something that could change the entire power structure of the Bratva.

Russ leans forward in his chair, his jaw tight. "She had no fucking idea who we were. Any of us." His voice is firm, defensive, even. "When I talked to her at the Ivory Wolf, she wasn't asking questions about my work or my family. She was nervous, almost shy. She didn't know what she was getting into."

"That's what it looked like," Alex says carefully, his tone skeptical. "But appearances can be deceiving."

I settle back in my chair, my fingers drumming once against the armrest. Marla seemed different from the usual women who throw themselves at men like us.

There was an innocence to her, a genuine quality that's rare in the circles we move in.

She'd been responsive and eager, but not calculating. Not the way a woman would be if she were working an angle.

But Alex has a point. The timing is too convenient to ignore completely.

"Walk me through it again," I say, looking at Russ. "When you met her, what was she doing? Who was she with?"

Russ thinks for a moment. "She was with a blonde woman. I think her name is Sharon and she works there. They were sitting at the bar, talking."

"Sharon," Alex confirms with a nod. "She's been there about six months. Clean background and no connections to any families that we know of."

"So Marla shows up with a friend who works at the club," I say slowly, working through the logic. "She catches the attention of three different pakhans over the course of three weeks. During the most sensitive negotiations our families have conducted in decades." I pause, letting that sink in. "That's either the biggest fucking coincidence in history, or someone sent her."

"Who would send her?" Russ challenges. "And for what purpose? She didn't ask questions. She didn't try to get information. She fucked us and left. That's it."

Alex shifts in his seat, his expression thoughtful. "Information gathering isn't always about asking direct questions. Sometimes it's about creating instability and planting seeds of distrust between allies." He looks between Russ and me. "Think about it. If word got out that we were fighting over the same woman, what would that do to the merger negotiations? What would our captains think about our ability to work together?"

The suggestion is serious, and I can see the logic in it.

Our families have been rivals for years, although we haven't.

Not like our parents. We're trying to consolidate power and create one strong family.

But that requires trust, and trust is fragile.

If someone knew what we're up to and wanted to destabilize the alliance before it was fully established, creating friction between the three of us would be an effective strategy.

"You think someone planted her to drive a wedge between us," I say, not quite a question.

"I think it's possible," Alex replies. "I'm not saying it's certain. But we'd be fools to dismiss the possibility entirely."

I think back to my encounter with Marla. The way she'd responded to me, the genuine surprise in her eyes when I'd been direct with her.

The nervousness that had gradually given way to desire. If she was acting, she was fucking brilliant at it. But I've seen brilliant actors before.

I've seen people lie with their entire bodies, make you believe whatever they want you to believe.

"She didn't strike me as calculating," I admit. "She seemed genuinely uncertain. Not like she was playing a role, but like she was actually trying to decide whether to go home with me." I pause, considering. "But that could be part of the act. Make herself seem innocent and vulnerable. Make us lower our guards."

"Exactly," Alex says. "If someone wanted to plant an agent, they'd send someone who seemed harmless. Someone we wouldn't suspect."