Page 37 of Brutal Unionn

“I’ve got you,” I whisper back. Then louder, never breaking eye contact with Bhon, “Who sent you? I can make it worth your while not to kill us.”

The man tilts his head like he’s watching a deer try to bargain with the hunter. The smirk that plays at the corner of his mouth is small—just a twitch—but it cuts deeper than a laugh ever could.

“Kill you?” he echoes, voice smooth as glass and twice as cold. “That’s a little dramatic, even for you,Shadow.”

“You know me?”

“Of course, I know the heir to the Yakuza,” He takes a lazy step forward. “Especially since he is wanted dead or alive for a billion yen.”

“You want a billion yen?” I snort. “I could have that in your account in the next hour.”

“You think I show up just to pull a trigger, and get a pay out?” he continues. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t be talking. And she—”his eyes flick to Nadia, still slumped and bleeding against the rumble, “—would’ve been a memory an hour ago.”

“Then talk,” I growl, jaw tight, every nerve in my body pulled taut like a loaded chamber. “Because I’m one second from deciding you’re lying.”

He snorts, steps just close enough for the steel toe of his boot to crunch glass between us.

“I’m not here to kill you,” he says again, slower this time. His eyes narrow slightly. “I’m here to clean up the fucking mess you two made.”

I stiffen. “Meaning?”

The man’s lips curl into something resembling a smile—but there’s no warmth behind it. Just teeth. “The Yakuza is pissed, Miss Petrov.”

Behind me, Nadia stirs. I hear the way her breath hitches through her clenched teeth. She grits out a sound between a gasp and a growl, and her fingers press into the wall behind her. Slowly, agonizingly, she begins to rise. Her legs tremble beneath her, the burn from her cauterized wound beats a bright red against her pale skin.

“Pissed about what?” she rasps, her voice rough but steel-lined, her body swaying slightly even as she forces her spine straight.

The man clicks his tongue against his teeth, tilting his head slightly, like he’s impressed despite himself.

“We got word that the true leader of the Bratva does not approve of the deal you made,” he says smoothly, like he’s reciting something already rehearsed. “And the Yakuza… they don’t like to be taken for fools.”

He lets the words hang there like a noose, watching her through narrowed eyes.

For a moment, the only sound is the wail of distant sirens and the hiss of still-burning fire.

Then—Nadia steps forward. She stumbles.

I move without hesitation, catching her around the waist as her knees start to give. Her skin is hot, damp with blood and sweat, her body unsteady in my grip—but she pushes me off with a sharp breath, determined to stand on her own.

“I am the leader of the Bratva,” she says, her voice rough but steady. “And anyone who says otherwise dies.”

Bhon doesn’t flinch. He just shrugs.

“Then I guess you need to kill Nikolai Petrov.”

She freezes beside me. Her breathing slows. Her eyes widen slightly, then narrow. I see the tension hit her all at once.

Nikolai Petrov was the leader of the Bratva until it was revealed he wasn’t Boris Petrov’s biological son. He was the result of an affair between Nadia’s mother and another man—making him illegitimate in the eyes of the organization. He’s also Nadia’s half-brother.

For years, they were inseparable. She was his second-in-command, fiercely loyal, and by all accounts, completely devoted to him. But when Boris exposed Nikolai’s true parentage, it wasn’t to discredit him. It was to block Nadia.

Despite knowing Nikolai wasn’t his real son—and despite despising him—Boris still chose him as leader, simply to stop a woman from taking control. His misogyny outweighed his pride, his bloodline, and even his hatred. He would rather see the Bratva in the hands of a man he couldn’t stand than let Nadia take the throne she’d earned.

“No, you’re lying,” she gasps out, covering her mouth as if it escaped her lips before she realized she was going to say it.

The man lowers his pistol. “Nope, he’s the one who paid the Yakuza 1.5 million dollars in USD to kill you.”

Nadia coughs, her eyes narrowed on the man’s relaxed posture. “So kill me.”