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NIKOLAY

T he Kremlin was a fortified complex in the heart of Moscow, so it was no surprise to Nikolay that he and his men were searched before climbing into the bulletproof vehicles and driven through the gates.

Surrounded by the elite military regiment, known as the Presidential Regiment, and twenty-one-foot-thick walls, the inside of the Kremlin was the opposite of what most imagined.

Instead of just a bunch of boring and drab buildings, they passed a cathedral, gardens, and a museum. Surrounded by green and golden towers, they headed toward the government buildings, passing the Kremlin Square and hundreds of tourists to the Great Bell Tower.

Soon, the number of armed guards increased, indicating they were close to their destination. Nikolay spotted a helicopter as they drove on to the Kremlin Palace of Congresses where the president undertook business.

Nikolay’s fingers pressed into the case sitting on his knee. It was searched—he had no choice—but the guards had no idea what they were looking at.

It was just paperwork and small vile he told them was his homeopathic allergy medicine.

Idiots.

Regardless, one of them smelled it, and of course, it had no effect on him. If he’d been a vampire, it would’ve knocked him out in mere seconds.

Thank God it worked fast.

Not fast enough, in his opinion—they’d had a few close encounters—but now it was going to make him a very, very rich and powerful man.

“This way.” A man greeted them as they climbed out of the vehicle.

It took another twenty minutes to walk through the building, go through a handful more security checks, and then finally be led into a large, grand room.

Near a fireplace, there were two large and ornate armchairs with small side tables on either side.

Nikolay strode into the room, Alexis and Demetri a few steps behind him.

When he stopped, he took in the famous gold framed paintings hanging on the walls and smiled to himself. He was in the Kremlin. The most powerful place in Russia.

As they waited, servers and guards hovered in the shadows, silent, still, and obedient.

Impatient as he always was, Nikolay walked to a window and stared out at the palace grounds. One day, he could own a building as grand as this. Or be standing right here, leading the country.

Even the world.

Not that he was there to take President Volkov’s job, but it could happen. The world was rapidly changing, and after learning they’ve been living with another species for the past fifteen hundred years, left it in a state of panic.

Nikolay held the key to ensuring humans remained at the top of the food chain.

Because the truth was, they never had been.

The door opened, and the president walked in.

Volkov was a large and impressive man; over six foot five, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw.

Without hesitation, he strode over to Nikolay, shook his hand and instructed him to sit with a point of his finger.

“Welcome to Moscow, Mr. Mikhailov.”

“ Sabiso .” He thanked the leader with a respectful nod.

Being ordered around wasn’t comfortable for Nikolay, but he was here to do business. Showing even a hint of weakness or manipulation could get him killed.

Even as the head of the Russian Mafia.

This wasn’t the United fucking States.

“I knew your father,” Volkov said, studying him as he crossed his legs.

Nikolay nodded.

It was common knowledge he’d killed the man and taken over the Bratva.

What the president thought of that was irrelevant as far as he was concerned. The Federation had, for the most part, let the Bratva function as a mob for decades.

Now they were about to become partners. He had little doubt the president would say no. It would be a foolish thing to do.

The two men sat, and the servers came out of the shadows, placing glasses of water on the small table between them.

“Coffee or tea, sir?”

“No. Spasibo .” Nikolay shook his head.

The president stirred his black tea, then dropped the teaspoon noisily on the saucer. He took one sip, then pushed it to a certain spot on the table and lifted his face.

The powerful gaze landed on him, waiting for him to speak.

“We will need the room cleared,” Nikolay said.

The president didn’t react; he just held his stare as the crime boss felt prickles of sweat start under his arms.

Which maddened him.

“Clear the room.”

Finally.

Doors opened, servers and guards vanished until there were only two left. He didn’t bother asking them to leave. They all knew the president would never be left alone and unguarded with the Russian Pakhan.

“You have three minutes,” Volkov announced.

“I’ve known about this new race for some time.” Nikolay got to the point, not wasting any time.

To the president’s credit, he didn’t react.

“I’ve met them, had one in my possession—”

“Possession?”

“In Seattle. The lab which exploded.”

“That was you?”

“Well, it was the vampires.” Nikolay shrugged. “They were mad I took their princess.”

“Jesus Christ.” President Volkov rubbed his face and stood, then began pacing. All the power games now gone. “How?”

It was a demand, not a question.

Nikolay reached for his briefcase and opened it on his lap, pulling out a sheet of paper and the small sample vial.

“This.” He held up the clear liquid.

Volkov didn’t move, simply stared at it, then lifted his eyes to Nikolay’s in question. The guard, only a few feet away, was twitching, ready to move at any time.

A quick glance at Alexis and Demetri told him they were aware.

“It’s a serum which incapacitates vampires for a short time, reasonably quickly,” he explained. “Holding on to them once they wake up is the challenge. Tungsten is the only material they cannot break or bend.”

The president walked over and bent, glancing at the vial in question.

“It has no effect on humans.” He handed it to him and the guard took a step closer, his weapons clicking as he moved.

Volkov glanced over his shoulder and nodded once to let him know to stay back.

“The science”—Nikolay handed him a few sheets of paper—“which neither of us can understand, but I also have video footage and witnesses.”

“How is it administered?”

“A gun. Like a tranquilizer. It works mid-range.”

The president lifted the serum and studied it.

“There’s more,” Nikolay added. “I have strong reason to believe POTUS was aware of their existence months ago.”

That got his attention.

Volkov cursed and indicated the small vial. “They have this?”

“No.” Nikolay smiled, feeling every inch the evil and powerful man, he now was. “Only I do.”

And any of his previous criminal partners that were still breathing, but that was being dealt with.

He let that sink in.

Nikolay was the one person alive with the power to dominate the vampire race. Him. No one else.

The Russian leader stared at him, then walked back to his chair and sat. His brain worked overtime as he acknowledged the situation he now found himself in.

He wouldn’t like the fact Nikolay had something so important in his possession, nor that the Americans were ahead of the game.

His eyes dipped as he feigned reading more of the scientific document for another few minutes. Nikolay waited patiently, trying not to laugh.

Finally, the president handed both items back to him.

Nikolay locked them in his case and placed it on the floor beside him.

“BioZen is a large American pharmaceutical organization.”

Nikolay nodded.

“How did you obtain it?”

“Does it matter?”

After a long moment, the president shook his head.

Nikolay didn’t think so.

“This information is not held by anyone else?”

Technically no, but someone in BioZen might still have information on a database. As far as he knew, nobody did. Even the vampires didn’t, but he’d bet his first-born child they wished they did. A laugh threatened to escape at that joyful thought.

Meeting Brayden Moretti had been an experience. Willow, herself, was a wild little thing, but seeing the prince appear like the predator he was to protect his wife and baby—or whatever the fuck they call each other—was enormously intimidating.

Add in his band of merry men who were just as large around him, Nikolay had thought his life was over. But he’d played the blow up the baby card.

Not his finest moment.

As a father-to-be, he knew it was the only thing that would get him out of there alive. He’d set it up from the beginning, of course.

“No. If the vampires do, they won’t be producing it.” Nikolay admitted.

“No.” Volkov glanced at his guard and lifted his hand. The man strode over, shifting his rifle. “Ask the minister to join us.”

It was time to get down to business.

Nikolay sipped from his glass of water and glanced at Alexis, who was standing with his arms crossed and legs apart.

“Congratulations Mr. Mikhailov, you have my attention.”

Excellent.

“What we need is secure production facilities and a distribution channel with global protection. Partners. Partnerships.” Nikolay began. “The window of panic is now. There has never been a product on earth that every human would want their hands on. And quickly.

“Mr. President, I’m going to be blunt. Fuck oil. Fuck weapon manufacturing. This serum will change Russia. Change the world.”

Rubbing his thumb and finger along his chin, the president stared at a spot on the carpet. Then he glanced at all the people in the room.

“Leave. All of you.”

Woah.

He wasn’t expecting that. But hope sprung in his chest. They were about to do the biggest deal in human history.

Nikolay nodded at his men, and they reluctantly left the room, so it was only him and the president left.

Volkov leaned forward, his hands in a temple. Body language experts would call it a power move.

And apparently it was.

“I’m going to say this only once. If you try to walk out of this building without handing over the information, you will die.” President Volkov’s voice was dark as he delivered the threat.

Then he sat back and threaded his fingers over his abdomen. “But you knew that.”

“Yes.”

Of course he did.

Both the document and serum were fake. The originals were secure in a location only he knew.

After all, he was a fucking crime boss.

“Then you have twenty-four hours to change that, or your wife and unborn child will suddenly find themselves in a Russian prison...or worse.”

Fuck.

He’d underestimated the man.

Elizabeth may have started out as a horny slut that he enjoyed dominating, but she was the mother of his child. He wasn’t even sure he loved her. None of that mattered. There was no way in fucking hell he was letting his son be born in prison.

He was the heir to the Bratva.

“I’m sure we can come to a much better arrangement.” Nikolay gritted his teeth.

The president smiled, and it made his skin crawl.

“There are two arrangements on the table for you, Mikhailov. You dead and your wife in one of Russia’s worst prisons. Or the information delivered to me by this time tomorrow.”

Motherfucker.

When the door opened and two guards walked in, the president strode out without another word.

Twenty-four hours.

Looks like he was calling the Chinese and leaving the country.