28. Dmitri
Dmitri
The morning feels too quiet, which probably means some asshole is about to ruin it.
I’m reviewing financial reports in my office when footsteps echo through the penthouse, and I know my suspicions are right. My brother’s voice carries from the main room as he talks to Boris, and his tone makes me close the ledger I’ve been studying.
“Boss is in his office,” Boris replies to whatever question Alexei’s asked.
“Good. Don’t disturb us.”
The footsteps get closer, and I pour myself a glass of vodka even though it’s barely past ten. When Alexei appears in my doorway, the look on his face confirms my instinct about needing alcohol for this conversation.
“Everything is falling apart while you play house with your fake wife.” He steps inside, shuts the door behind him, and drops into the chair across from my desk. “The Mikhailov contract isn’t the only deal we’ve lost.”
I let out a long breath and ask, “What are you talking about?”
“Three more contracts gone this week. The Ivanov shipping arrangement. The Petrov arms deal. The Krasny protection racket. All for the same reason.”
I flip through the documents he’s spread out. Cancellation notices, termination letters, and politely worded rejections that all say the same thing.
“Concerns about organizational stability,” I read aloud from one of the letters.
“Concerns about leadership distraction,” Alexei corrects. “They think you’ve lost your edge because you’re too busy playing husband to focus on business.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’ve skipped every territorial meeting for weeks. Missed the quarterly dock review. When’s the last time you collected a debt yourself?”
I want to argue, but the specifics are damning. I’ve been sending representatives instead of personally handling business, something I never did before Katya arrived.
“I’m managing priorities.”
“You’ve been hiding. From our operations, difficult decisions, and anything that might interfere with your domestic fantasy.” Alexei taps the folder. “Borisov said dealing with us feels like negotiating with middle management because the boss is too busy to show up.”
“Borisov has always been a problem.”
“Borisov controls three of our most profitable shipping routes. And he’s shopping for new partners because he thinks we’ve gone soft.”
I wave him off and ask, “What else?”
“The street crews are freelancing. Taking side jobs like we’re part-time. Two of our best—Kiril Ivanov and Maxim Federov—already jumped ship.”
Kiril and Maxim have worked for our family for more than five years. If they’re jumping ship, the situation is worse than I realized.
“What about our other personnel?”
“Nervous. Questioning. Some are talking about looking for opportunities with more stable organizations.” Alexei pulls out another set of documents. “Semenov asked if you’re stepping down or if he should start planning succession.”
Semenov asking about succession means my most trusted lieutenant thinks I’m a liability. That’s preparation for regime change. A goddamned coup.
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’re handling a complex situation that requires careful management. But I can’t give that answer indefinitely.”
I pour another glass of vodka and offer one to Alexei, who shakes his head.
“You need to resolve your personal situation before it destroys everything our father built. Every day you spend focused on that woman is a day you’re not focused on protecting our territory, maintaining our relationships, and managing our people.
You said you would at least talk to Viktor about handing her over. ”
“It’s not time yet,” I argue. “I haven’t figured out how to?—”
“Father built this for twenty years. Grandfather started it from nothing. Three generations bled for it. And you’re throwing it away over one woman.”
The mention of our father makes my blood heat with rage. “Don’t bring Father into this.”
“Father would have solved this problem in five minutes. He would have put a bullet in her head the moment he discovered she was FSB, and he would have moved on with business.”
“Father led his way. I lead mine.”
“Father was a leader. The kind who understood that personal feelings are luxuries we can’t afford. He would be ashamed of what you’ve become.”
I stand up so fast that my chair rolls backward into the wall. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re in love with an enemy agent who was sent to destroy us, and that love is doing what she couldn’t accomplish through espionage.”
“She doesn’t remember who she was.”
Alexei cocks his head and smirks. “Are you sure about that?”
“Even if she remembers, nothing changes. She’s not working against us.”
“Her very presence is working against us! Every day she’s here is another day you’re not fully focused on protecting what we’ve built.”
“I can handle both responsibilities.”
“Can you? When’s the last time you made a decision based on what’s best for the family instead of what keeps her happy?”
The examples are piling up too quickly. Hiring Pavel despite my suspicions about his background. Avoiding certain business meetings because they might upset her. Delegating operational decisions so I could spend more time managing her recovery.
“The situation is temporary.”
“How temporary? Because at the current rate of decline, we won’t have an organization left to protect by the time you figure out your priorities.”
“I’m handling it.”
“How? By pretending she’s your wife? By hoping she never remembers who she is?” Alexei plants his palms on my desk and leans over it. “By convincing yourself that love conquers espionage?”
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“I understand it perfectly. You captured an enemy agent, and instead of eliminating the threat, you played games with her identity because you thought it would give you the upper hand. Now, those games are costing us everything.”
“She’s no longer a threat.”
He throws his hands in the air and shouts, “She’s the biggest threat we’ve ever faced! Not because of her training, because she’s made you weak. And weakness in this business gets entire families killed.”
The word “weak” makes something violent bloom in my chest. I’ve never been weak. I’ve built this organization into one of the most powerful in Moscow through strength and ruthlessness.
“I’m not weak,” I grind out.
“Then prove it. Make the choice that protects our family’s future instead of your happiness.”
“What choice?”
“You know what choice. The same choice Father would have made, Grandfather would have made, and any rational leader would make. Eliminate the threat before it eliminates us.”
“I won’t kill her.”
“Then you’ve already chosen her over us.”
The finality in his voice makes something cold settle in my bones.
“She’s my wife.”
“She’s FSB. Pretending to be your wife. If you can’t see the difference, you’re compromised. And I’ll protect the family from you if I have to.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m saving you from yourself. And if I can’t, I’ll save the family instead.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you won’t make the hard choice, I will.”
I hold his stare with my jaw tight and every muscle daring him to try.
The threat is clear. If I won’t eliminate the problem, he will. If I won’t choose the family over Katya, he’ll make the choice for me.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Because, unlike you, I remember what loyalty means.” He moves toward the door, then stops and turns back. “This can’t continue indefinitely, Dmitri. Handle the threat, or I will.”
He opens the door and steps into the hallway, leaving me alone with an ultimatum that feels like a knife between my ribs.
Choose the organization or choose Katya.
Choose duty or choose love.
Choose the legacy my father died protecting or choose the woman who was sent to destroy it.