Chapter 38
JULIAN
The room suddenly feels cold.
I can feel it, the shift of nine men making mental calculations in real time, changing strategy, determining who’s an enemy and who’s an ally.
Baranov speaks fist.
“This is irregular,” he says. “The Triad partnership was presented as a settled matter. And I was under the impression Mrs. Lee was here to simply confirm the matter in person. And now we’re being asked to change leadership as a condition of an alliance that we haven’t voted on?
No. I won’t vote on this tonight. It needs to be discussed first, in detail. ”
Federov nods. “Agreed. Yang signed the deal with Julian. If Yang’s representative is rewriting terms all of a sudden, we need to understand why before we commit to anything.”
“And where is Yang?” Kuznetsov asks, looking at the side door where Lee exited, as if she might step back through at any moment. “Why isn’t he here? This is the largest Bratva-Triad negotiation in a generation, and we’re doing it through an intermediary?”
“I agree,” adds Baranov. “Surely, he can make an appearance through a video call?”
“You heard her,” I say. “She says he’s no longer available.”
“And what the hell does that mean?” asks Federov.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I watch Alexander out of the corner of my eye. He remains seated and still, expressionless, as if he’s watching matters unfold exactly the way he’d planned. Part of me wants to throttle him on the spot.
But before I can do or say anything, the side door opens, and Lee walks back in, bringing an instant air of tension with her.
“I understand there are questions,” she says.
She remains standing as she addresses the room, her posture deliberate.
“And let me address them simply—Mr. Yang has entrusted the Triad’s North American operations to my discretion.
The terms I’ve presented are final. The routes will open under Alexander’s leadership, or they don’t open at all. ”
Baranov shakes his head. “That’s not how this works. We don’t accept ultimatums, we negotiate.”
“There is nothing to negotiate,” Lee retorts. Her voice hardens a bit, her diplomatic veneer cracking. Her tone is still cold and even, but she’s no longer speaking with patience, she’s speaking with contempt.
“The Triad’s position is clear—Julian Volkov is a liability. His leadership has produced three assassination attempts in a month, internal family conflict broadcast to the public, and a compromised security apparatus that can’t protect Ms. Thibodeaux at an event run by his organization.”
I shift in my seat, bristling at the mention of Lyra.
“Assassination attempts,” I echo. “Connected to Triad resources. Do you have an answer for me on that matter yet, Lee?”
Her eyes narrow. “What exactly are you implying, Mr. Volkov?”
“Where is Yang?” Federov shouts. “I want to speak to him now! We don’t need to communicate by goddamn carrier pigeon. Take out your phone and call him. Now.”
“I will answer the question for the final time. Mr. Yang is unavailable.”
“Explain what that means,” I say. “Explain why the leader of the Triads can’t answer a simple phone call.”
“As I said,” she replies, the contempt in her voice growing more severe, “I am his intermediary. I’m not a mere spokeswoman. I am empowered to make decisions on behalf of the Triad.”
“I don’t give a damn what you are,” I say. “Contact Yang. Now.”
She takes in a slow draw of air through her nose, then sighs heavily.
“Mr. Yang is no longer your concern, Mr. Volkov.”
The room goes silent.
There’s a bit of ambiguity to her choice of words, but I pick up a clear implication.
Yang is gone. And Lee is the one who moved him off the board.
I reach for my phone and check the screen. Still jammed.
As I glance sideways at Ethan, a thought hits me with the force of a fist to the sternum.
Lee’s made her play here. The move is to decapitate, to destroy my political position, to leave me powerless.
And you don’t make a move like that unless you’ve got other moves to go with it.
Lyra. A jammed phone. I can’t reach her, and she can’t reach me.
“I need to leave,” I say to the room.
“The council isn’t adjourned,” Dobrov says. His smile suggests he’s been waiting for this moment for years. “We still have more to discuss.”
“We do not,” I say, standing. “You’re more than welcome to stay and talk all you want. Or don’t—I don’t give a damn. But I’m walking out of this room right now, and anyone who tries to stop me will learn a harsh lesson.”
“You’re not to leave yet,” Lee says. “You need to formally relinquish control of the syndicate and give it over to your brother. This needs to be official and agreed upon.”
“Like hell, I will,” I respond. “This is a revolt, and I’m not going to sign on the dotted line for it.”
I turn to Alexander, still seated and silent, his eyes fixed forward.
I’ve had enough.
“Brother, I think it’s time you said something. You want to be the man in charge, correct? Then stand and assert your goddamn authority. Show the council that you’ve got what it takes.”
Alex turns his attention to me for the first time since Lee arrived.
“That is not necessary, brother. Your position is clear. There’s no need for this to become anything more drastic. Simply abdicate here and now, and this can all be over.”
“Not a goddamn chance,” I snarl. “Over my dead body.”
As if he’d been waiting for a cue, Dobrov reaches into his jacket and produces a silver pistol.
“We don’t have to do it this way,” he says. “But one way or another, Julian, you’re giving up leadership of this council.”
I clench my hands into fists.
A revolt. And I walked right into it.
But I don’t give a damn about myself.
I give a damn about Lyra.
There’s no doubt that she’s in danger.
I have to get to her, no matter what.