Page 15 of Bratva Ruin

The Volkov empire won’t fall on its own. It needs someone to tear it apart from the inside.

And that’s me.

My father built it. My brother feeds off it. I’m the one dismantling it, brick by brick, and deal by deal.

Every shipment rerouted, loyalty bought, and favor called in bleeds them a little more.

They thought I was reckless. That I was distracted by a woman.

Maybe I am.

But that doesn’t make me weak.

It makes me unpredictable and pissed off.

I’m not surprised when Artem calls. He doesn’t like that I’ve been quiet. He never does.

He shows up unannounced two hours later, because that’s how he operates. Men like him don’t request entry; they take it.

The guards open the doors, and his voice carries before I even see him. “You’ve been busy.”

I steal a glance at him, dressed in all black but not like me.

Instead of suits, he works in T-shirts and shredded jeans. He only dresses up if we have an important meeting, but even then, he bitches about it.

“You drove here to state the obvious?” I pour a drink without offering him one, purely out of spite for him being right about one thing.

I never should’ve brought Sienna into my life.

“No, I drove here because you’ve been making moves without talking to me.” He takes a step closer, and his eyes narrow. “You were ordered to lie low. To let your brother dig his own grave.”

“He’s not digging fast enough for me.”

“You’ve been skimming,” he says. “Redirecting shipments. Pulling men off our payroll. You think I don’t notice?”

“I was hoping you would.” I lean back against the desk. “Would’ve saved me a call.”

“Don’t be cute.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

His voice drops low, and the warning underneath it is clear. “Benedikt, we’re going to get your men back.”

“I don’t want them. They betrayed me.”

“No,” he drawls. “They’re waiting for you.”

“Is that what they told you?”

He fixes me with a look that’s both agitated and exasperated. “That’s what I’mtelling you.”

“And I think you got soft. More than I have.”

That’s when his hand shoots out over my desk to grab the front of my shirt.

I don’t move.

Don’t flinch.