Chapter 16 - Fyodor
I looked around at the warehouse, realizing how it smelled like gasoline and bad decisions.
I stepped over a crate split open in the middle of the concrete floor, boots crunching against broken wood.
My men had already secured the perimeter.
Two of Kliment’s lieutenants were kneeling against the far wall, hands zip-tied, and faces bruised but breathing.
They were alive for now, but I wouldn’t be able to keep it that way much longer. They had to go.
“Who authorized this?” I asked calmly, but neither one of them answered immediately.
They knew better than to lie to someone like me, so I was sure they would eventually come through.
I crouched near the open crate, my hands running over the assault rifles inside.
I already knew they were all unregistered, unmarked, and freshly oiled.
Whatever this attack was, it was neither defensive nor precautionary.
It was simply provocative. I could see it for what it was, and it had Kliment written all over it.
“This shipment was rerouted from our southern corridor,” Viktor said quietly beside me. “It was scheduled for containment storage.”
“Not distribution,” I replied.
“Correct.”
I stood up, noticing how the two men near the wall avoided my eyes.
“Where were these going?” I asked.
They looked at one another, clearly hesitating before they answered my question.
I didn’t raise my voice because I simply didn’t need to.
I had never needed to. Anger was something that did not come to me easily, and my anger was never marked by loud voices and barely controlled rage.
It was well within limits, and I always knew exactly how to make people sing for me.
“Brickell,” the man muttered. “Near Chernykh territory.”
“To do what exactly?”
My question was met with complete silence. I noticed how Viktor’s jaw tightened at the delay, remembering how he was always a little bad when it came to staying patient.
“To provoke a response from them,” I answered for him because all of us already knew what it was.
The man swallowed loudly, still not meeting my gaze. “Yes.”
I turned away from them slowly, my gaze falling on the engines which idled in the dark right outside. The slow thunder in the distance was enough to tell us that rain threatened overhead, with thick clouds already pressing low against the skyline. The sky would begin pouring within minutes.
All of this, whatever Kliment was doing, wasn’t strategy.
It was simply his ego that kept making these stupid decisions.
He had always been one to favor escalation when patience would suffice.
But this was reckless even for him. He kept forgetting that we were not in Russia, and Miami was completely new territory for us.
We had to be cautious and play it safe, and inviting the Chernykhs to war was not playing it safe.
“When I heard about this altercation, I sent orders through which you were told to stand down. Why were my orders not followed?” I asked, still facing the open warehouse doors.
“Yes, you did, but—”
“But Kliment overruled my orders,” I finished for him, knowing exactly what would have happened.
“Yes,” he confirmed.
Of course he had. I walked toward the exit, pulling my phone from my pocket.
“Unload the weapons,” I instructed Viktor without looking back.
“And quietly redirect them back to storage. I don’t want Kliment to find anything out before I tell him myself, and I don’t want him to go about doing this again.
We need to secure things better and increase our intelligence so we know everything he is planning to do before the order is passed. ”
“And them?” he asked, glancing toward the kneeling men.
“They can go home.” The lieutenants looked stunned.
I was stunned myself because only earlier I had decided to kill them, but something about the whole thing had changed my mind.
They were the Chernykh men after all, and they had done nothing wrong except follow Kliment’s orders. It would be unwise to kill them.
“No message?” Viktor asked.
“Oh, there will be a message. But not by killing innocent men.”
I stepped into the humid night air, already dialing Kliment’s number.
It was not as if I could hide this from him forever, and the best way to tell him what I had done was to tell him myself.
I did not want him to unleash his wrath on our soldiers when the only person who deserved it was me. The call connected on the third ring.
“I gather that you interfered?” Kliment said without greeting me, his tone harder than usual.
“You escalated operations without consulting me.”
“You have already undermined me and my orders by marrying a Chernykh, and I no longer think it is necessary for me to consult you regarding anything.”
“You are trying to provoke the Chernykhs, knowing fully well it will do nothing but invite a war we are in no position to fight.”
“They need reminding, and I need to bring my sister back, and the only way to do this is war.”
“Ilana left of her own will, and she is not coming back,” I reminded him sharply. “And as for war, you are forgetting that this is not Russia. We are not home. We will all be dead if the Chernykhs decide to attack us with their allies.”
A pause.
“You think they won’t strike until we provoke? You think that you marrying a Chernykh sister will go unavenged? The war is going to happen whether you like it or not, Fyodor. I prefer knowing exactly when it will begin,” Kliment replied.
“I know they will strike.”
“Then why don't we strike first and get it over with?”
“Because this isn’t about revenge or about Ilana or about me. This is simply about your pride, Kliment. You are letting your ego come in between every single decision you are making, and that is not going to be good for any of us.”
“You think this is about my pride?” he demanded.
“I know it is.”
His breathing shifted on the other end.
“You’ve grown soft since you married the enemy,” he said.
“That is not true.”
“You think I don’t know how you have moved your teams and operations into your penthouse like some corporate executive? My eyes are on everything that you do, Fyodor.”
“I have nothing to hide.” I stepped away from the warehouse lights, rain finally beginning to fall in thin sheets. “I prevented a firefight on their doorstep tonight. A fight that would have cost us, men.”
“It would have cost them more.”
“And what would that solve?”
“Dominance.”
“We already have dominance.”
“You think they respect you?”
“I don’t need their respect.”
“You need their fear.”
“I need stability.”
A long silence followed. When Kliment spoke again, his voice had cooled into something sharper.
“I can see how her presence is already affecting your judgment.”
“No.”
“You dismantled my operation tonight because of her.”
“I dismantled your operation because it was reckless.”
“You’re prioritizing damage control over loyalty.”
“I’m prioritizing survival.”
“You forget who leads this family.”
“I don’t.”
“And yet you act independently.”
“So do you.”
That was the fracture between us, sharp and visible. I waited as rain soaked through my jacket while neither of us spoke for several seconds.
“You think you can manage this alone and protect her?” Kliment asked finally.
“Yes.”
“And you think she’ll stay?” A muscle ticked in my jaw at the question.
“That’s not your concern.”
“The moment the Chernykhs come to rescue her, you will be the first person she leaves, Fyodor. You might be doing all of this for her, but remember that she will never be loyal to you the way she is loyal to her name and her family. You will regret all of this soon.”
I ended the call before I could say something back and stepped back into the warehouse. The rain came harder now, the falling droplets creating a soft music all around us. Viktor stepped beside me under the awning, probably having heard my end of the conversation already.
“He won’t stand down, will he?” he said.
“Never. Let’s get out of here.”
Viktor nodded and began redirecting men back to the cars while Kliment’s men were sent back home.
The night had already gone on long enough, and I had no desire for it to go on any longer.
It took us longer than usual to get back to the penthouse because of the rain, and I returned just past midnight.
The city glowed below, deceptively calm, but inside, the lights were low and soft.
It almost felt a little different, and for all I knew, Elisse might have also changed the lights.
Just the way she had changed the cushions. They were emerald now, the exact swatch I had picked up the other day and had told her it would look beautiful on her. The color made the place warmer, making me feel as if I were actually home. The guards at the entrance nodded.
“No incidents?” I asked.
“No, sir.”
I nodded at them and moved back inside, the scent of charcoal lingering faintly in the air.
It was late, but I knew she would not be asleep yet.
She had been spending most of her time working since she had decided to get back to it.
I found her in the spare bedroom, which she had turned into her studio.
I stood at the open door, watching as she worked at a mannequin, barefoot and beautiful.
Her hair twisted loosely at the back of her neck, and she stood in front of a mannequin which was nearly as tall as she was, hands moving in a slow, deliberate fashion while she played with the fabrics in her hands.