Sergei
Of course she turned me down. Stubborn girl. Sofia would rather fight on her own feet than take protection on someone else’s terms.
Half my age and twice the trouble. Twenty years between us and she still looked me in the eye like she was the most dangerous person in the room. She might be right.
Kirill walks into my office without knocking.
“She’s making moves,” he says, dropping a folder on my desk.
I look up from the port manifests I’ve been reviewing. “What kind of moves?”
“The financial kind. She’s been pulling records on Yuri—everything from his travel expenses to wire transfers. She’s also been asking questions. Quietly, but not quietly enough to get past my sources.”
I lean back in my chair, reaching for the folder. Inside are surveillance photos, financial documents, and what appears to be a detailed timeline of Yuri’s activities since he arrived in New York.
“She compiled this?” I ask.
“Most of it. My guy on the inside says she’s been working twelve-hour days going through everything. She’s trying to get information out of Moscow, but from what I’m hearing, she’s not getting far. Yet. She’s tenacious.”
Smart.
Still naive, though.
“She’s also been reaching out to some of her father’s old contacts,” Kirill continues. “Testing loyalties. Seeing who still respects the Baranov name and who’s already shifting allegiance to Yuri.”
I flip through more pages, my respect for her growing despite myself. She’s going on the offensive in the only way she can—through information and leverage.
“She’s moving faster than I expected,” I admit.
Kirill smirks. “You sound impressed.”
“I knew she’d fight. I didn’t expect her to be this far ahead already. She’s already decided it’s Yuri,” I say.
My phone buzzes. A message from one of my contacts. I read it quickly, then look up at Kirill.
“Mikhail agreed to meet.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Seven o’clock.”
Kirill whistles low. “He’s in bad shape if he’s agreeing to meet you in public.”
“Or he’s desperate.” I close the folder and stand. “Either way, I need to know where he stands. If he’s backing Yuri, I need to know now.”
“You want me there?”
“No. This conversation needs to be just the two of us. But I want you close. “
“I’ll handle it,” Kirill says.
I arrive exactly on time to the Baranov-friendly restaurant.
Mikhail is already seated at a table in the back corner. Private but visible enough to discourage stupidity. He looks worse than I expected. The suit hangs loose on his frame. His skin has that gray pallor of a deathly ill man. But his eyes are still sharp, still calculating.
I approach the table, and he doesn’t stand. Can’t or won’t, I’m not sure which.
“Sokolov,” he says. His voice is raspy, like he’s been running miles. Another sign of his poor health.
“Mikhail.” I take the seat across from him. “Thank you for meeting.”
“I was curious what you wanted. We haven’t spoken in years.”
A server appears immediately. I order water. Mikhail already has scotch in front of him, though I notice he hasn’t touched it.
“I’ll be direct,” I say once we’re alone again. “Your nephew is making moves. Aggressive ones. And they’re putting both our operations at risk.”
“Yuri is ambitious. That’s not a crime.”
“Attempted murder is.”
Mikhail’s expression doesn’t change. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He’s tried to kill your daughter twice in the last week. If her guard hadn’t been faster than the vehicle, Sofia would be dead right now.”
He doesn’t even flinch at the thought of her on the pavement.
Anger flashes across his face. Mad at Yuri or mad that I know?
“That’s a serious accusation,” he says.
“It’s the truth. Your daughter is the biggest obstacle between him and your empire. He wants your seat. He’ll kill her to get it.”
“And you care about my daughter’s welfare because?”
I hold his gaze. “I care about stability. A succession war in the Baranov family destabilizes the entire city. That affects my operations. That affects everyone’s operations.”
“So this is about your bottom line.”
“Everything is about the bottom line, Mikhail.”
“My family is not your business.”
Any man willing to throw his own daughter to the wolves deserves to be torn apart by them.
“When he takes over, he’ll start pushing into my territory because men like Yuri can’t help themselves.”
“If he takes it, he earns it.”
I clench my jaw. “Are you backing Yuri’s move?”
“Not your concern.”
“You’ll let him kill your daughter?”
Given what this man has done to other women he supposedly loves, I know it’s possible.
Mikhail picks up his scotch, takes a small sip, then sets it down carefully. “What do you want from me?”
His non-answer sends chills down my spine.
“An alliance. Sofia inherits when you die. I back her claim. In exchange, we maintain the existing territorial agreements and establish formal trade partnerships. We both get richer, and the city stays stable.”
“You want to absorb my operation.”
“I want order. There’s a difference.”
“Not in my experience.” He coughs into a handkerchief, and I see the pink stain when he pulls it away.
“Sofia is smart. Capable. But she’s not ready for what’s coming.
The old families in Moscow won’t accept her.
They’ll push for Yuri because he’s male and he’s connected. He promises them things she can’t.”
“You won’t stand up for her rights, even if it means Yuri kills her?”
He folds the handkerchief and sets it on the table. “Our world is ruthless. If Yuri ends up the victor here, then so be it.”
He wants her tested. I want her alive.
“She’s your daughter.”
I don’t bother hiding my disgust for him. I let him see exactly what I think of him.
Mikhail studies me for a long moment. I can see him calculating, weighing options, trying to figure out what I’m really after.
“No,” he says finally.
“No?”
“I won’t tie my daughter to you. I won’t hand you leverage over the Baranov empire. Whatever happens after I'm gone is her problem to solve. If Yuri is the stronger option, then Yuri takes it. That's how it has always worked."
He says it like leaving her exposed is discipline rather than neglect.
“Alone, she loses,” I say while thinking, Not if I can help it.
“Then she’ll find her own resources. She’s my daughter. She’ll figure it out. Or she won’t.”
“You’re condemning her to death.”
“I’m letting her prove herself, just like I would if she were my son. If she can’t hold what I built, she doesn’t deserve it.”
I’ve done terrible things. I’ve never looked at someone under my protection and counted them expendable.
“You’re not concerned Ilya was taken out? He was loyal to you.”
Mikhail frowns. “What?”
“Ilya. He’s dead. Cops fished him out of the harbor yesterday.”
He didn’t know. I see him scrambling.
I push on. “Yuri had him killed and replaced with one of his own men. You’re being guarded by someone who answers to your nephew, not you.”
I watch the realization hit him. The fury that flashes across his face before he controls it.
Mikhail doesn’t move. He knows I’m right.
He knows his empire will be picked apart from within, and he didn’t see it coming because he’s been too focused on dying with dignity to notice the vultures circling.
“How many others?” he asks quietly.
“At least three that I know of. Probably more. Yuri has been building his network inside your organization for months. Long before he ever stepped foot on American soil. By the time you’re gone, he’ll have enough people in place to take over without firing a shot.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because it’s what I would do.”
“You seem very invested in seeing a woman you’ve never met take power after I’m gone,” Mikhail says.
I don’t flinch. Mikhail hasn’t always been ill. He’s one of the most ruthless men I’ve ever encountered, and he’s too close to the truth for comfort.
“I’m invested in stability.”
He smirks. “I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive. I know what a man looks like when he’s protecting an asset. And I know what a man looks like when it’s something else.”
“It’s business.”
His gaze drifts past my shoulder. “She looks like her mother. I remember when I first saw Elena.”
I give him nothing.
He looks back at me, the moment of reverie gone. “Don’t try to save her. She has to prove she’s worthy.”
Mikhail drains his scotch in one swallow. His hand is shaking slightly when he sets the glass down.
“This is not your concern, Sokolov. My bratva, my businesses will never be under your control. Not through alliance, not through marriage to my daughter, not through any scheme you can devise. When I die, what happens next is between Sofia and Yuri.”
“She’ll lose.”
“Then she’ll lose.” He starts to stand, struggles, catches himself on the table. Pride keeps him from accepting help. “Stay away from my family. Stay away from my daughter. Whatever you think you’re doing, stop. I don’t need your protection, and neither does she.”
I watch him leave, moving slowly through the restaurant with what little dignity he has left.
I sit alone at the table for several minutes after he’s gone.
There is only one move that gets her out of Yuri’s reach.
Kirill appears at my elbow. “And?”
“He refused.”
“Expected. What now?”
I stand, buttoning my jacket. “Now we move forward.”
“Marriage?”
“Yes.”
It’s more than that. I keep the rest to myself.
As we leave the restaurant, Kirill says, “He’ll see this as war.”
“I’m preventing a war.”
Kirill gives me a look that says he thinks I’m lying to myself. That I’m too invested. That my promise to Elena Baranova is clouding my judgment.
He might be right.
The promise is still the easiest reason to name.
It is no longer the only reason.
Mikhail is a disgusting excuse for a father. Elena knew exactly what kind of man he was. She did not trust him to protect Sofia when it counted. She trusted me.
Watching her is no longer enough.
Her father will fail her. I won't.