Page 35

I nod, and Torres follows me through the rows of crates to the small office. Inside, a young man sits hunched in a chair, his face pale and his hands trembling around a mug of coffee.
“Matvei,” I say, stepping into the room. “Tell me what happened.”
He looks up, his eyes wide with fear. “It happened so fast,” he stammers. “They came out of nowhere, masks on, guns drawn. But they didn’t hide who they were. They…they said Alexei wanted you to know it was him.”
The room goes quiet.
“You did well,” I say to Matvei. “Rest now. You’ve earned it.”
He nods shakily, and one of the guards steps in to escort him out.
As the door closes, Torres turns to me. “This isn’t just about territory. Alexei’s trying to send a message.”
“He’s making a play for everything,” I say, my voice cold.
“And what’s the response?” Torres asks.
I don’t answer right away, my gaze fixed on the footage still looping on the security feed. Alexei thinks he can make moves like this without consequence.
But in this world, every move demands a reply.
“We remind him what happens when you challenge the Ivanovs,” I say finally.
“Boss,” he says, breaking the silence. “If Alexei keeps pushing, it’s only a matter of time before we’re looking at full-scale war.”
I nod, my jaw tightening as I glance back at the security footage still looping on the screen. “We’re already there, Torres.”
Torres exhales, his fingers tapping against his belt. “What about Evans? High time we bring him and his men in? He’s been vying for blood.”
The name alone is enough to make my chest tighten.
Ethan Evans. Lila’s father. My…ally.
He’s a cunning man, a bastard son who clawed his way into power through sheer force of will. But he’s not pure blood—only half Russian. In this world, that matters. He doesn’t have the respect he craves, the standing he needs to truly solidify his place in the Bratva.
That’s where I come in.
The alliance between our families is as much about cementing his legacy as it is about protecting mine. On paper, it’s a perfect match—a blending of power and resources, a shield against the likes of Alexei.
But in practice?
“I don’t trust him completely,” I say.
Torres raises an eyebrow. “The alliance is one of the reasons for this,” he points out. “It was supposed to make both of us stronger.”
“And it has,” I reply. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll hand him the keys to our operations. Evans has his own motivations, and they don’t always align with ours.”
Torres doesn’t argue, but the tension in his stance is clear. “We can’t afford to fight this on two fronts, Mikhail. Alexei’s relentless. He’s targeting us incessantly, and now, after what happened to Oleg…”
I grit my teeth, the memory of Oleg’s death flashing through my mind. He was one of my best men, a trusted lieutenant, and Alexei took him out like it was nothing.
“It’s not just about territory anymore,” Torres continues. “Alexei’s making this personal.”
“It’s always been personal,” I say. Or at least Alexei has always been personal.
He came out of the shadows—out of nowhere. My sources say he’s a bastard, just like Ethan. And he has amassed such strength in a short period of time. I have a feeling he’s being backed by some of my powerful enemies, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous alone.
Torres falls silent, and I can feel his eyes on me, waiting for a decision I’m not ready to make. Because the truth is, as much as I hate to admit it, Torres is right.