Chapter 23 - Irina
The gala was everything Irina had expected from a high-society event designed to launder criminal money through charitable donations.
Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across marble floors, while men in thousand-dollar suits and women dripping in diamonds moved through the ballroom like predators in designer clothing.
The Volkov and Nikolai families had arrived separately, maintaining the facade of rivalry while coordinating their real purpose for the evening.
Irina smoothed her hands over the midnight blue silk of her gown, the fabric clinging to curves that were still subtle but definitely there.
Three months pregnant, and already her body was changing in ways that made her hyperaware of the life growing inside her.
The knowledge that she was carrying Matvei’s child while preparing to potentially put herself in danger made her stomach twist with nerves that had nothing to do with morning sickness.
“You don’t have to do this,” Matvei had whispered against her ear in the car, his hand protective on her thigh. “We can find another way.”
But they couldn’t, and they both knew it.
Viktor had confirmed that their target, Dimitri Kozlov, would be here tonight.
The man who had orchestrated the attacks on both families, who had kidnapped her and sold her at that auction, who was still pulling strings from the shadows.
This was their best chance to get close enough to make him confess, and Irina was the only one who could do it without raising immediate suspicion.
Now, standing in the opulent ballroom with a champagne flute of sparkling water in her hand, she felt the weight of everyone’s expectations pressing down on her shoulders.
Her brothers were scattered throughout the room, trying to look casual while keeping her in their sights.
Matvei’s family had taken up strategic positions as well, and she could feel the tension radiating from all of them like heat waves.
She caught Matvei’s gaze from across the room, where he stood with Simon and Adrian, looking devastatingly handsome in his black tuxedo.
Those golden brown eyes found hers, and in them she saw everything she needed: love, trust, unwavering support.
He believed in her ability to pull this off, and that faith settled the worst of her nerves.
A slight nod from Viktor near the bar told her that Kozlov had arrived.
She spotted him almost immediately, a man in his fifties with silver hair and cold gray eyes, surrounded by a small entourage of men who were clearly more muscle than manners.
He looked exactly like what he was: a predator dressed up in expensive clothes.
Irina took a steadying breath and began moving through the crowd, timing her approach carefully. She needed to make contact seem accidental, natural. A collision near the dessert table would work perfectly.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed as she deliberately bumped into Kozlov, her water splashing slightly onto his sleeve. “How clumsy of me.”
“No harm done,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. His eyes raked over her in a way that made her skin crawl, but she forced herself to smile prettily.
“You’re very kind. I’m Irina Volkov,” she said, extending her hand with practiced grace. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Dimitri Kozlov.” He lifted her hand to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture that felt more threatening than gallant. “Volkov, you said? Related to Matvei?”
“His wife, unfortunately.” She let just a hint of bitterness creep into her voice, playing the role of the unhappy bride. “Though I suppose I should be grateful. Marriage to a Bratva leader does have certain... protections.”
Interest flickered in Kozlov’s cold eyes. “Protections from what, my dear?”
“Oh, you know how it is in our world. So much violence lately. All these attacks on different families’ operations.” She sighed dramatically, watching his face carefully. “Though I have to say, whoever’s been orchestrating them certainly knows what they’re doing. Very clean work.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Kozlov said, but she caught the slight tension around his eyes.
“The attacks on the Nikolai operations, the ones on my husband’s businesses.
Someone with real skill has been picking apart the most powerful families in the city.
” She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“Between you and me, I’m impressed. It takes real intelligence to play enemies against each other like that. ”
“You seem very well-informed about your husband’s business affairs.”
“I make it my business to know these things. Especially when it affects my safety.” She paused, studying his face.
“You know, the attack patterns remind me of some jobs I heard about in Moscow a few years ago. Similar methodology, same attention to detail. Wasn’t there someone named Kozlov involved in those? ”
The man’s smile didn’t waver, but she saw recognition flicker in his eyes. He was trying to decide whether she was fishing for information or actually knew something.
“Moscow is a large city with many people named Kozlov,” he said carefully.
“Of course.” Irina waved her hand dismissively. “I’m probably imagining connections that aren’t there. It’s just that the work has been so... surgical. Professional. The kind of thing that takes years of experience to execute properly.”
She was walking a tightrope, feeding him just enough information to make him think she knew more than she was saying while stroking his ego about the “quality” of his work. Men like Kozlov had massive egos, and she was betting his would override his caution.
“You’re very observant,” he said finally.
“I have to be. Married to a man like Matvei.” She let real frustration bleed into her voice now, thinking about all the times her brothers had dismissed her abilities, all the ways she’d been sidelined and underestimated.
“He thinks I’m some delicate flower who needs protecting from everything dangerous.
Keeps me locked up in his mansion like a prisoner while he handles all the real business. ”
“That must be... frustrating.”
“You have no idea.” She turned to face him fully, letting desperation show in her eyes. “Sometimes I fantasize about making him pay for treating me like property. Showing him that I’m not as helpless as he thinks.”
Kozlov’s smile widened, and she knew she had him. The combination of wounded pride and desire for revenge was something he understood, something he could use.
“Perhaps,” he said slowly, “you’re not as helpless as your husband believes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those attacks you mentioned. The ones you find so... impressive.” He glanced around, making sure they weren’t being overheard. “Let’s just say that particular operation isn’t finished yet. There are still moves to be made.”
Irina’s heart raced, but she kept her expression neutral. “Really?”
“The Volkovs and Nikolais think they’re so powerful, so untouchable.
But everyone has weaknesses. Everyone can be brought low if you know which pressure points to target.
” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Your husband, for instance. So protective of his family. So convinced of his own superiority. It would be... educational... for him to learn otherwise.”
“You’re talking about the attacks,” she said, barely breathing. “You’re behind them.”
“I’m behind many things, my dear. The auction where your husband acquired you, for example. The attacks on both families’ operations. The careful cultivation of their mutual hatred.” His eyes glittered with malicious pleasure. “And I’m far from finished.”
Bingo. The confession she needed, clear and damning. But Kozlov wasn’t done talking.
“In fact,” he continued, leaning closer, “perhaps you and I could work together. A woman with your access to Volkov operations could be very useful. And I would be happy to help you... express your feelings about your husband’s treatment of you.”
Irina felt bile rise in her throat at the suggestion, but she forced herself to look interested. “What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing too dramatic. Perhaps a small explosion at one of his warehouses while he’s inside.
Or maybe something that looks like a Nikolai retaliation for his supposed attacks on their family.
” Kozlov’s smile was pure evil. “The beauty of the plan is that both families will destroy each other trying to avenge slights that never actually happened.”
“And what would I get out of it?”
“Freedom. Revenge. And a very generous financial arrangement.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. “Think about it, my dear. You could have everything you want.”
Irina took the card with shaking fingers, knowing that every word of this conversation had been transmitted through the wire Viktor had insisted she wear. Both families now had concrete proof of Kozlov’s guilt, recorded evidence that would clear them both of any wrongdoing.
“I... I need to think about this,” she managed.
“Of course. But don’t take too long. I have other plans in motion that won’t wait forever.” Kozlov straightened his jacket. “It’s been a pleasure talking with someone who truly understands the game.”
As he started to walk away, Irina saw Viktor moving through the crowd, Ilya and Kostya flanking him. Across the room, Matvei and his brothers were also converging, their faces grim with purpose. The net was closing.
But Kozlov was sharper than they’d given him credit for. She saw the moment he realized something was wrong, saw his gaze dart between the approaching Volkovs and Nikolais with sudden understanding.
“Well played,” he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.
Then chaos erupted. Kozlov’s men moved to protect their boss, weapons appearing as if from thin air.
Guests screamed and scattered as the ballroom transformed from an elegant social gathering to a potential battlefield.
Irina found herself grabbed and pulled behind a marble pillar by Viktor, his body shielding her from the mayhem.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his hands checking her for injuries.
“I’m fine,” she gasped, adrenaline making her voice shake. “Did you get it all?”
“Every word.” Viktor’s smile was fierce. “That bastard just confessed to everything.”
Through the chaos, she could see Kozlov and his men fighting their way toward the exits, using the panicking crowd as cover. Matvei was trying to get to them, but there were too many people, too much confusion.
“He’s getting away,” she said.
“Let him run. We have what we need now.” Viktor pulled out his phone, probably to coordinate with their security teams outside. “Both our families are cleared, and we have enough evidence to...”
“Viktor.” The cold fear in her own voice stopped him mid-sentence. “Where’s Raya?”
She’d spotted the girl earlier, gorgeous in a silver gown and talking animatedly with some of the younger Volkov cousins. But now, scanning the chaos, she couldn’t see Matvei’s youngest sister anywhere.
Viktor followed her gaze, his face paling as he realized what she was seeing. Or rather, what she wasn’t seeing.
“Matvei!” he shouted across the ballroom, his voice cutting through the noise.
When Matvei turned, Viktor pointed toward where Raya had been standing. The space was empty now, with no sign of the girl anywhere.
The look that crossed Matvei’s face was pure anguish. He understood immediately what had happened. In the confusion of the confrontation, in the chaos of Kozlov’s escape, someone had taken his sister.
As sirens wailed in the distance and the last of the fleeing guests cleared the ballroom, one thing became crystal clear: their victory in exposing Kozlov had come at a terrible price. And now they had to live with the consequences.