Chapter 4 Benedikt
Benedikt
The house feels different with her in it again.
It’s too quiet.
Too still.
Like she’s trying to disappear into the walls.
Part of me wants to let her.
I told myself this was about control. About making sure she didn’t run again. But when I walked into her old room and saw her bag half-unpacked and her shoes still in the hallway, it didn’t feel like control.
It felt like punishment. For both of us.
She doesn’t look at me when I pass her in the halls. She used to watch every move I made, half-terrified, half-curious. Now her eyes slide right past me, like I’m someone she used to know.
Good.
She doesn’t get to play innocent after what she pulled.
Artem’s been shadowing her since the day I brought her back. I don’t trust anyone else with the job. If she so much as breathes in the wrong direction, I hear about it.
Every move.
Every glance.
Every phone call she doesn’t make.
I told her she’s free to go outside.
What I didn’t tell her is that she’ll never be alone again.
She tried to talk to me this morning. Followed me into my office with a stubborn set to her jaw and her eyes flashing like she thought I’d listen.
“Benedikt, we need to talk.”
I didn’t even look up from the papers on my desk. “If you want to fuck, we’ll talk.”
She froze.
Didn’t say another word.
Just stood there long enough for me to feel her glare like a knife between my shoulder blades, then turned and walked out.
Now the house feels like it’s holding its breath. Every time she’s near, I feel it. I can’t shake the tension. She’s here, but she’s no longer mine in the way that counts.
I thought keeping her close would fix that.
It hasn’t.
It’s just a daily reminder that trust doesn’t grow back.
It rots.
And right now, I’ve got bigger things to handle than the ache she leaves behind every time she walks out of a room.
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’m telling 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.
I let him feel the tremor in his own grip.
“You think because you’ve got a few loyal dogs and a girl you fuck, you can dismiss what I’m saying now?”
“Careful,” I say softly. “You’re only still breathing because I let you.”
He glances toward the hallway, and I know who he’s looking for before he speaks. “Is she here?”
My blood runs hot. “Don’t.”
“She’s why you’re distracted. Why you’re sloppy. I knew the moment I saw her that she would cost you everything.”
“She already did,” I say.
For a second, he looks like he understands. Then his expression hardens. “You think love makes you strong, Benedikt? It doesn’t. It makes you predictable. And predictable men die fast in this business.”
“Then maybe it’s time the business changes.”
He studies me for a moment, the silence between us thick and familiar. Then he laughs again—quiet, bitter. “You’re still a boy playing king. I thought we’d grown up.”
“Maybe.” I tilt my head. “But even a boy with a gun can end a dynasty.”
He folds his arms. “You’re spiraling, Ben. You think no one notices, but I do. You’re not sleeping, you’re making reckless moves, and now Ivan’s sniffing around again because his shit is getting fucked up.”
“Handle it.”
“I always do.” He pauses. “But this time, I can’t fix what’s wrong with you.”
“Watch it.”
He exhales sharply and shakes his head. “You don’t scare me. You never did.”
He’s right, and that’s the problem. Artem’s the only person alive who can get away with talking to me like this.
“What are you accusing me of?” I ask.
“Losing focus.” He flexes his jaw. “You built this entire thing on control, but now you’re slipping. You’re thinking with your dick instead of your head.”
I clench my hands at my sides. “Careful.”
He smirks humorlessly. “What? You gonna shoot me, too? Or do I get a pass because I’m not the girl who betrayed you?”
My blood spikes. “I said watch it.”
He steps closer. “I told you from the beginning that she’d be a problem. You said you had it under control. That she was just a debt you needed to collect.” His eyes flick toward the hallway. “Looks to me like the debt’s collecting you.”
“That’s enough.”
“You’re protecting her like she’s family. She ran, she lied, and you’re still giving her a place to sleep. What happens when she burns you again? You gonna let her walk a second time?”
I grit my teeth, forcing my voice steady. “She’s not walking anywhere.”
“That’s the problem. You’re keeping her because you can’t let her go, not because it’s good for business.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Yeah? Let me guess. The marriage, the heir, the neat little deal that’s supposed to make all of this worth it? She’s not built for this life, Ben. You know it, I know it, and your old man sure as hell knows it. You’re trying to make something pure out of a world that’s rotten.”
“She signed the contract,” I snap. “Five years. A marriage. An heir. She gets everything she wanted. A bakery, money, and security. It’s a business arrangement.”
“You actually believe that?”
“That’s what I just fucking said.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s the story you tell yourself, so you don’t have to admit that you’re in love with her.”
The words hit harder than they should. I keep my face still, but my chest tightens anyway. “You’re out of line.”
“But I’m not wrong.”
“Drop it.”
He doesn’t. “She will destroy you, and when she does, I’ll be the one cleaning up what’s left. Again.”
I step close enough to him that we’re eye to eye. “If you ever say her name in that tone again, I’ll put you in the ground myself.”
His jaw works, and for a second, I think he might test me. But then he exhales and steps back, shaking his head.
“You’ve changed,” he says. “And not in a good way.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But I’m still the one giving orders.”
He studies me for a long time, searching for the man he used to follow. “If she were anyone else, you’d already have her buried.”
The idea behind that makes me sick to my stomach. However, I still respond with, “I know.”
“Then why not this time?”
“Because she’s mine,” I say quietly. “And I don’t kill what’s mine.”
The words hang there, too heavy to take back. Artem looks at me like he doesn’t recognize me.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he says. “And I don’t want you to. Not after everything we’ve built, Ben. We’re toeing a very dangerous line here.”
“Probably.”
His brows furrow because I’m not budging.
Not this time.
“You can’t fix what’s broken in you with her, Ben. You know that, right?”
I don’t answer.
There’s nothing wrong with her; it’s me.
Artem’s right, she doesn’t belong here, but I won’t admit that to him.
He waits expectantly for me to say something to make it better.
I don’t.
Finally, he shakes his head and walks out, the door closing hard behind him.
He’s not wrong.
But he’s not right either.
I stare at the desk, and all I can think about is her face when she looked at me earlier, like I’d already made up my mind about what she is.
Maybe I have.
Maybe that’s the only way to keep her alive.
Love doesn’t belong in this world.
But I’m already in too deep to pull it back out.