Page 95 of Dark King Daddy

“Correct,” Nikita said. He had his tablet open. A list was displayed on the screen. Six names. “Six people received the code that morning. You. Arkady. Me. Volna’s head of security — Petya Vlasov.” His jaw tightened. Petya, who had died at the east stair that same night. “The building manager, Semyon Orlov. No relation to your family,” Nikita added, glancing at Anton. Anton shook his head once. “And Lev.”

“Who else had access?”

“Nobody. The code was generated by Nikita and distributed in person,” Maksim said. “No digital record. No text message. No email. Each recipient memorized it or wrote it on paper that was to be destroyed.”

“Was it?”

“I destroyed mine,” Nikita said. “I personally observed Lev destroy his. I cannot verify the others.”

The implication settled into the room. It did not arrive suddenly. It arrived the way cold enters a building — through the gaps, the seams, the places where the structure was not sealed.

Leonid Gusev had entered Volna unarmed. Even though he was trusted, He had been searched. He had been clean. He had walked to a locked service cupboard, entered a four-digit code, and retrieved a handgun that had been planted in advance.

He could not have done it alone.

Someone had given him the code. One of six men. My brother. My intelligence chief. My father’s dead guard. A building manager. My father himself.

Or me.

Anton spoke first. “Leonid couldn’t have guessed a four-digit code in under a minute. That’s not a brute-force entry. That’s someone handing him the key.”

“No,” I said.

“So the Voronins didn’t just exploit an opportunity.” Anton leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. “They had someone inside your organization. Someone close enough to receive a temporary security code for a meeting between two Pakhans.”

I looked at the six names on Nikita’s tablet. My eyes moved down the list. Daniil Sokolov. Arkady Sokolov. Nikita Sokolov. Petya Vlasov. Semyon Orlov. Lev Sokolov.

Petya was dead. Lev was dead. That left four.

“Could Petya have given it before he died?” Anton asked.

“Possible but unlikely,” Nikita said. “Petya was posted at the east stair before the meeting began. Leonid didn’t arrive until eighteen-forty. Petya was already at his position. They didn’t interact.”

“Lev?” Anton asked.

I considered it. My father had arranged the meeting. My father had chosen Volna. My father had insisted on the private format—no security inside the room, only corridor coverage. At the time, it had looked like the paranoia of a man who trusted no one. Now it looked like something else.

I did not voice that thought. Not yet. Not in front of Anton’s people.

“We investigate all six,” I said. “Every name on that list. Including mine.”

Nikita looked at me. Maksim looked at Anton. Anton’s expression did not change.

“Without exception,” I continued. “Petya and Lev cannot be interviewed, but their communications, their movements, their contacts in the forty-eight hours before the meeting — pull everything. Phone records, meeting logs, vehicle GPS. Semyon Orlov the building manager — full background, financials, any connection to Voronin Atlantic Logistics or known Voronin associates. Arkady. Nikita. Me.”

“Daniil,” Nikita said. His voice was careful.

“If you clear yourself and skip me because I am Pakhan, the investigation is worthless. Whoever gave Gusev that code is counting on exactly that. They are counting on the assumption that the new Pakhan will not investigate his own family. They are counting on loyalty being thicker than evidence.”

I looked at him.

“Prove me innocent. Or prove me guilty. But investigate all six names the same way. No shortcuts. No exceptions. No one outside this room knows what we’ve found. Not Arkady. Not Yelena. Not Ksenia. No one.”

Anton studied me for a long moment. Whatever he was measuring — my sincerity, my seriousness, the cost of what I was asking — he found it sufficient.

“Maksim,” Anton said. “You work with Nikita. Full access to Orlov surveillance resources. Sokolov records as Nikita can provide them. Report to both of us directly. Nobody else.”

Maksim nodded once.