Page 52

I nod, expression revealing nothing but appropriate interest. "I've heard her educational achievements mentioned. An asset to the organization."

"More than you know." He taps the folder with one finger. "The proposed alliance would benefit both sides substantially. Your territories would expand to include the Western European corridors. Direct participation in senior planning. Accelerated advancement within the hierarchy."

Marriage alliance—exactly as Anton's intelligence suggested. I consider my response carefully, balancing appropriate gratitude with the confidence expected of a man worthy of such connection.

"A significant proposal that merits serious consideration," I say, neither accepting nor rejecting outright—the expected negotiation stance.

"Not a proposal, Baranov. A decision." Markov's voice hardens slightly. "The arrangements have been finalized. The contract awaits your signature as a formality, not an invitation to negotiation."

The display of dominance requires delicate response—acknowledgment of his authority without appearing completely subservient. I allow a moment of silence before responding.

"I appreciate direct communication, pakhan. May I review the terms?"

He gestures permission to take the folder. I open it, scanning the contents while maintaining awareness of Markov's continued assessment. The contract is comprehensive—detailed specifications of territorial rights, financial arrangements, security protocols, and succession provisions in the event of Markov's death or incapacitation.

Everything we've worked toward. Everything I need to complete my vengeance.

One detail catches my attention—while I know the bride will be Anastasia, she remains unnamed throughout the document, referenced only as "daughter of Mikhail Aleksandrovich Markov." A small irregularity in an otherwise meticulous legal framework that suggests Markov may not realize I've met his daughter before.

"The documentation appears thorough," I comment, closing the folder. "Though somewhat unconventional in certain aspects."

"Formalities will be completed after acceptance of terms," Markov responds, the implicit message clear—sign first, formal introductions later. "My daughter's security remains priority until arrangements are finalized."

A test, then. Markov expects me to commit to the alliance without acknowledging that I know exactly who his daughter is. Perhaps he's unaware of our Paris encounter—or perhaps this is his way of determining whether I'll volunteer that information.

I consider my options with swift calculation. Requesting the daughter's identity might suggest hesitation or, worse, imply that her specific qualities matter to me—revealing weakness Markov would exploit. Accepting without question demonstrates confidence and reinforces my cultivated image of a man focused on strategic advantage rather than personal preference.

"The terms are acceptable." I reach for the fountain pen Markov extends. "The alliance benefits both our interests."

As I sign, Markov's expression reveals momentary satisfaction—he believes he's secured a valuable asset through this arrangement, binding a rising lieutenant whose capabilities he needs but whose ambition he must control.

Little does he know he's just handed me the perfect weapon for his destruction.

"The formal introduction will occur tomorrow evening," he says, taking the signed contract. "My daughter returns from her final diplomatic engagement tonight. The announcement to the wider organization will follow."

"I look forward to meeting her," I respond with appropriate formality.

"She's been fully briefed on her responsibilities." Markov's tone suggests no consideration of his daughter's preferences in this arrangement—she is merely another asset deployed for organizational advantage. "Your first assignment together will involve the Sokolov negotiations. Her diplomatic skills paired with your security expertise create useful synergy."

I nod, already calculating how to leverage this "synergy" to access Markov's most protected operations. "A logical approach to integration."

"You'll take primary responsibility for her security during the transition period," he continues. "Recent expansions have created... potential vulnerabilities. My daughter's safety is non-negotiable."

"Understood completely." The irony of being assigned to protect the daughter of the man I've sworn to destroy isn't lost on me. "Security protocols will receive my personal attention."

As the meeting concludes with final details of tomorrow's introduction, I maintain perfect professional composure despite the triumph surging through me. Years of patience, of advancement, of becoming the perfect Bratva captain—all culminating in this unexpected but elegant solution.

Marriage to Markov's daughter places me exactly where I need to be for the final strike. The ultimate inside position.

* * *

"Congratulations on your impending nuptials,"Dmitri says with a smirk as we review security arrangements for tomorrow's introduction. "That’s a big advancement, Baranov."

I ignore the resentment in his tone. Dmitri Volkov—Markov's longtime security chief, now effectively my subordinate in the revised command structure—has made no secret of his displeasure at my rapid rise through the ranks.

"Focus remains the priority," I respond coldly, reviewing the complex security schematics for the Metropol Hotel's private dining room where the formal introduction will occur. "The alliance creates advantages for all divisions."

"Of course." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Though one wonders if you might find the marital requirements... distracting."