Page 32 of Desperate Crimes (Mergers & Acquisitions #6)

T he double doors to Adrik Volkov’s study click shut behind us like the closing of a cage.

The room is exactly what you’d expect from a man like him—bookshelves lined with antique ledgers and oil portraits, a mammoth desk of dark walnut at the center, and a cold decanter of something expensive and sharp glinting on the sideboard.

Adrik stalks behind that desk like he’s claiming his territory.

My father and mother stand a little to my right.

I’m at center stage. Leanna’s beside me, a fucking vision in blue, but I keep her slightly behind my shoulder.

My hand never leaves hers. I won’t let go.

Not in this room.

Not ever.

Her mother, Sofia, stands near the fireplace, her eyes wet, lips parted like she might break—but she doesn’t.

Marat Volkov and his wife, Destiny, are standing in the corner, unreadable.

And then my mother turns to Leanna, her voice like soft water.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Leanna blinks, visibly caught off guard by the kindness. She nods slowly.

“Yes, thank you. I’m okay.”

I squeeze her fingers.

And I offer a silent thank you to my mother for saying what I couldn’t.

What I wouldn’t trust myself to say without lighting the fuse on this whole fucking room.

Then Sofia speaks, her voice thin. “I-I’m glad to hear that, Lee-Lee. I’m just confused. Am I a bad mom?”

“What? No, Mom—” my wife chokes on the words.

My body goes taut. Tense. All the men do. But we remain silent while mother and daughter have this emotional confrontation.

“I just—I never got to give either of my daughters away. Never got to do the whole wedding planning thing. No big dress. No aisle. No vows in front of friends and family. And well, is it my fault? Am I so unapproachable?” Sofia asks softly.

Guilt twists in my chest like a knife. Fuck.

“No, Mom, I swear. It has nothing to do with you or Dad. We didn’t intend to hurt anyone,” my wife states, but her voice is shaky, and I know this is upsetting her.

“Mrs. Volkov, please accept my apology. See, the rush and secrecy were all my fault. I just couldn’t live another day without her. But I wasn’t thinking about how our situation would affect anyone else. But I promise my intentions are honorable,” I explain.

“Honorable?” Adrik murmurs. “You married my daughter without my knowledge. You didn’t ask. You stole.”

“You can’t steal something that’s always been yours, Mr. Volkov. I think you of all people would know that,” I challenge.

His black-eyed stare locks on mine, softening only when his wife steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand, Junior,” she says, addressing me, then her gaze lands on Leanna. “I’m sorry if I sounded like I was trying to make this about me. I just want my girl happy,” she adds, shaking her head, wiping at her tears.

“I’m happy, Mom,” Leanna says, her voice small but sure.

“I’ll make her happy,” I tell Sofia, not blinking, not breaking. “You have my word.”

My father hums beside me, a quiet, satisfied sound.

I see my mother leaning her head on Dad’s shoulder. His attention is fully focused on her for the moment, and I get it.

My father’s devotion to my mother is legendary. And it’s no less than what I know of Adrik and Sofia. Of Marat and Destiny.

And I really do get why the Volkovs are upset.

But my Leanna doesn’t deserve any blame.

That’s all on me.

Adrik sits, finally, and the energy shifts.

He steeples his fingers like a man preparing for bloodless war.

“Let’s skip to something else. What about this Caas business?” Adrik says, voice like polished steel—smooth, neutral, deceptively calm.

But I see it for what it is.

Camouflage.

A predator’s stillness right before the pounce.

I step forward, pulse steady, spine straight. I’ve been waiting for this moment.

“Volkov Industries and Viper Enterprises have collaborated in the past,” I say evenly, “on several high-yield real estate development projects. Midtown. Doha. Monaco.”

Adrik nods once. Impatient. Waiting for the twist.

“But I have something bigger in mind for us now, Mr. Volkov.”

I let the silence hang a beat, just long enough to draw every eye in the room. The pressure in my chest grows, but not from nerves.

Anticipation.

Sammy and I have been building this pitch in secret for almost a year. This isn’t just a deal. It’s a legacy. And I’ve kept it close to the vest— so close not even my father knows the full extent of it.

I feel him watching me now.

Assessing. Waiting.

He taught me how to move in shadows, how to strike when the time is right.

And this?

This is my strike.

Adrik lifts his chin. “I think we better bring everyone in then, don’t you?” he says to my father.

Nico Sr. nods, his voice calm but curious. “I’d like to hear it.”

On cue, Sofia, Destiny, and my mother shift toward the deep leather couch lining the wall. They settle in gracefully, but Leanna doesn’t move.

She stands frozen beside me, unsure if she’s part of this world or simply watching it unravel.

I squeeze her hand.

Not as a show of power—but as a promise.

I’m here. With you.

I feel her jolt of surprise, the rapid beat of her pulse under my thumb.

She’s confused.

Torn.

And it kills me not to be able to explain everything to her right now. But that time will come.

First, I have to win.

There’s a knock.

Marat opens the door, and the cavalry enters—exactly as planned.

Sammy Ramirez strides in first, sharp in a navy suit, his father Andres behind him like a shadow cast in flesh. Josef Aziz follows, flanked by my uncles Angel and Luc, both oozing the kind of weight and gravitas only blood and battle can buy.

The room stiffens.

This is no longer a family gathering.

It’s a boardroom in disguise.

Sammy takes his place beside me, sliding a leather folio onto the polished table.

“Caas signed over the Southeast Asian rights this morning. To me,” I announce.

Calm. Precise. A blade in motion.

Adrik’s eyes flicker. “I thought he was stalling.”

“He was.” I flash a cold smile. “Until we reminded him what happens to men who double-deal.”

Josef chuckles under his breath. Luc doesn’t bother hiding his grin.

“He didn’t want to sign,” Sammy adds. “But when you own a man’s secrets— when you hold the receipts —he tends to rethink his position.”

My father raises a brow, impressed. “You moved fast.”

“I moved clean,” I correct him. “We now control the majority of transit and export through the disputed ports in Binh Duong, Cebu, and Jakarta. All legally, all traceable, all documented.”

I tap the folder Sammy just placed on the table. “And with the blessing of three local governments.”

I look directly at Adrik.

“What I’m proposing is a full merger of Viper Enterprises’ international logistics division with Volkov Industries’ rare-earth commodities network. A partnership. Legitimate. Long-term. Ironclad.”

Adrik leans back in his chair, stroking his chin.

Leanna is quiet, but her posture has changed.

I feel it.

Like a tremor before a quake.

She thinks this is why I married her.

She thinks it’s all strategy.

And I want to shout that it’s not.

That it never was.

That I’d have married her in a gutter and signed this deal later in a boardroom with blood under my nails and ash in my lungs if I had to.

But the words can’t come now.

Not in front of everyone.

Not when the empire is on the table.

Adrik lifts a glass of water, sips once, then sets it down.

“I see,” he says, voice unreadable. “This is quite the offer.”

“It’s the future. Wolvers and Vipers work better together, Mr. Volkov,” I say.

Adrik raises a brow. “You’re saying Viper Enterprises controls his holdings now?”

“I’m saying I do.”

A slow, calculating pause.

“I see.”

“This doesn’t have to be a threat,” I say, tone even. “It can be a bridge. A merger between Fury Holdings, a subdivision of Viper Enterprises, and Volkov Industries—clean lines. Legitimate. No overlap.”

Adrik laughs under his breath. “Legitimate,” he echoes, the word dry on his tongue.

“It’s been coming for years, you know that. But now it makes sense. With me and Leanna married?—”

That’s when I feel her tense beside me.

Not much. Just a subtle shift in her weight.

But I feel it.

And, fuck me, it makes something cold and hot spiral through my veins.

Goddamn it.

No.

She definitely thinks I used her to get this deal across the line.

I turn my head, just enough to catch her eyes. I can’t do this.

Not now. Not here.

But I see it.

The crack.

The hesitation.

She doesn’t say anything—but that silence? It carves a canyon into the center of me.

Adrik clears his throat, dragging my gaze back to his.

He narrows his eyes.

“I think the ladies should retire while we discuss the terms, gentlemen. Then we’ll see what kind of man you really are, Junior.”

And I brace myself—because what happens next might just split the ground open beneath us.

Behind me?

The woman I love is too quiet.

Too still.

I’ll fix it later.

I have to.

Because if she starts to believe she was part of a strategy, I’ll lose her.

And I’d rather burn this whole goddamn empire down than let that happen.