Chapter 11 - Nikolai
I’ve handled worse situations than this.
That’s what I keep telling myself as I stand in the hallway outside the guest room where Dani has confined herself to overnight, staring at the wood like it’s going to give me an answer that will fix everything.
But of course, it doesn’t.
This isn’t something I can brute force my way through, especially not with her or my brothers. I’ve created a mess by letting those two worlds collide, and now, I have to find my way out of it while causing minimal damage.
I said too much to Dani, and that’s the problem.
Roman also knows more than he was ever supposed to, but I figured that with time and some well-performed jobs, they’d forgive me like we usually do for one another and move on. Dani, however, is a different story.
The lines blurred, and I let her see more than anyone in her position should see. Now, there’s no putting that back, and no rewinding to when I was just Liam, and when she’d look at me without that edge of betrayal in her eyes. It’s not like I can play the family card with her either.
Now she knows enough to be a potential problem if things go too far, and I know exactly how Roman would take it. In his mind, she’ll be a liability and a threat to the rest of our work, but I can’t stand the thought of seeing her in that way.
This weird soft spot I have for her is the reason I’m even in this mess, and as hard as I try to ignore it, it refuses to leave.
I exhale slowly, well aware that I can’t delay this or the meeting, and I drag a hand down my face before knocking once on the bedroom door.
Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t answer.
I wait a second, then murmur, “Make yourself decent. I’m coming in.”
Even when she doesn’t say anything, I push it open anyway and glance over to the bed.
Dani’s sitting back against the headboard with a blanket pulled around her like armor, and the worn-out look in her eyes suggests she didn’t sleep for most of the night. Her gaze slides to me for half a second before dropping back to whatever point on the wall she’s been staring at.
Message received.
“I’m heading out for a few hours,” I tell her, hoping to push through the tension I’ve done nothing to soothe.
Nothing. I receive only cold silence and not even the acknowledgment of a nod.
I step further into the room to let her know I’m being serious, all while keeping my distance. “There’s food in the kitchen. Eat something.”
Still nothing.
My jaw tightens slightly, not liking just how far she’s taking this. “Dani.”
“I heard you,” she says flatly, refusing to look at me. Once again, she’s closing herself off to me.
Taking a breath, I force down the irritation that wants to surface. She has every reason to be pissed, and I know that, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with.
“I know you might not think it, but I meant what I said,” I continue. “About you being safe here.”
Dani makes me wait before she mumbles, “I don’t care what you meant.”
Even if it’s meant to be scathing, I don’t feel any heat from it, and that almost makes it worse.
“I’m not asking you to care. I’m telling you the reality.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t believe you, regardless of how many times you tell me.”
I don’t respond immediately, since there’s nothing I can say that’s going to fix that right now. As much as I want to patch things up and have her trust me through this, I can’t expect that to happen overnight.
“Lock the door if you want,” I say instead. “No one’s coming in here without your say.”
Except me, but I don’t add that part.
Instead of acknowledging it, she just sits there, wrapped in silence and anger that she doesn’t bother to keep hidden from me.
I linger for a second longer than I should for reasons I don’t understand, then I turn and leave. Pushing her right now will only make things worse, and I’ve done enough of that already.
So, I head out, bracing myself for the inevitable shit show waiting for me.
***
The warehouse smells like oil, metal, and something faintly chemical. It’s always familiar and grounding in a way, regardless of what’s ahead of me.
This is a world I understand best, given how long I’ve been in it.
Between the concrete floors, high ceilings, and men moving with purpose, all with jobs to do, it’s controlled chaos. There’s no confusion here, and no lines to blur without immediate consequences. It’s just business, and something my family has fine-tuned for years.
Stepping inside, I shrug off my jacket as I head toward the upstairs offices. I don’t need to be told they’re already here. I can feel it, along with the tension in the air, thick and waiting. Roman made it clear that I needed to show up, and I imagine that applies to everyone.
The door’s already open when I reach it, with Roman sitting at the head of the table, arms crossed, and expression set in that hard, unimpressed line I know too well.
Mikhail’s at the desk while he texts quickly, his focus dialed in but distant, and I can only assume he’s doing more logistical work.
Sergey is by the open window, cigarette in hand, as smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling anyway.
Ivan’s sitting watching him, looking somewhat on edge, apparently resisting the urge to join, since Mila’s been on his case about quitting, even if he was only ever casual about it.
They’re all here, as expected.
“Nice of you to join us,” Roman says as I step in, vaguely sardonic in his usual condescending big brother way.
I ignore the tone and close the door behind me. “I had something to deal with.”
“That’s obvious,” Mikhail mutters without looking up from his phone.
Leaning against the edge of the table, I deliberately don’t sit, and I cross my arms. “Let’s get to it then.”
Roman’s gaze narrows at me. “No. Let’s start with you telling me what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into, and why you couldn’t wait for me to leave last night.”
Straight to it…I expected nothing less.
“I already told you,” I say coolly, keeping up the usual indifferent mask. “I’m handling something.”
“That woman,” he continues, not easing into it in the slightest. “The one in your place. I assumed she was just someone you were seeing in secret, which wouldn’t be my business at all, but given how she looked prepared to murder you, I know there’s more to it than that.”
Fighting the instinct to bristle at the insinuation of her being some mindless hookup, I push it aside and keep my mouth shut. It’s just like Roman to be too observant.
“So, who is she?” he presses.
I exhale slowly, knowing this is the line I never wanted to cross. I can keep dodging and deflecting all I want, but this chase will never end. I can give them enough to get them off my back, at least.
“Her name is Danielle.”
Roman doesn’t move, as it means nothing to him. “And?”
“She’s a victim of something I’ve been working on. That’s why she’s at my place.”
The others are silent, but they don’t seem shocked by any means, which I can only imagine is due to Roman briefing them beforehand. I bet it was a rather scathing conversation that was had in my absence.
“You’ve already told me this. What kind of something?” Roman asks, pushing for me like usual. “Give me the details.”
I meet his eyes, forcing myself to operate with the same detachment I normally do. “I’m trying to take down a medical fraud ring. One that’s been going on for quite a while now.”
Finally, that earns me a subtle reaction from each of them, and I have their complete attention, wanted or not.
“Go on,” Mikhail says, obviously interested as his typing has paused.
Pushing off the table, I walk the length of the room before pausing. “They were running fake trials and promising synthetic organ replacements to anyone desperate enough to give it a shot. People paid in, signed up, and trusted them enough to go under the knife.”
“And?” Sergey prompts before forcing out a long exhale of smoke.
“And they were harvesting real organs instead.”
The room goes completely still, and even Sergey forgets his cigarette for a second.
“What?” Ivan asks, low and controlled.
I can’t tell if they’re startled by the crime or my efforts to stop it, but either way, I continue.
“They take the patient under, extract what they can, and dispose of the rest. They’re clean in how they cover their tracks, and efficient, too. No one looks too closely, which helps them stay under the radar.”
Mikhail swears under his breath, and Roman’s stare sharpens into something dangerous.
“You’ve been tracking this?”
“Yes. For months.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it?” He retorts with evident anger now.
“I was close to bringing it down. I had an angle in and enough to tie the whole operation together, and I couldn’t risk everyone being involved. It was too sensitive,” I admit, still feeling the lingering resentment I have for myself over it.
“And where does this Danielle fit in?” Mikhail asks.
“Her father was one of the patients,” I reply.
Ivan lifts a brow as he fills in the blanks. “He didn’t make it, I assume?”
“No.”
Silence settles again, but it feels different this time while they process it all. Rather than just the information, it’s about the scale of it too. It’s obviously more sophisticated than a shady at-home ploy.
“Those people…” Sergey mutters. “They’ve made a business out of selling organs, which isn’t anything new. But you can’t tell me doctors and nurses are facilitating black market deals on the side.”
“The professionals do the hands-on work and make it look legitimate, but the head doctor has an associate who handles the arrangements. From what I’ve gathered, he has his own ranks.”
“Another enemy…” Roman utters under his breath as he drags a hand down his face. Then, he forces out a breath and fixes me with a hard stare. “And you went after them alone.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” he demands.
That’s the question I don’t have a clean, straight answer for, regardless of how often I try to come up with one for myself.
I shrug slightly, trying to play it off. “I didn’t want it interfering with our operations.”
“That’s bullshit,” Roman snaps immediately. “I know you, Nikolai. You might not shy away from the difficult parts of this life, but you’re not stupid. You know cover is important, regardless of what you can handle on your own.”
I hold his gaze, feeling torn by the claim. I do know, but that doesn’t mean I always have to run back to my brothers when things get tough. Even if I’ve been fumbling pieces of this, I know I’m capable. I know what I’m doing.
“Maybe I wanted something that was mine.”
That shuts him up, and something shifts in the room, like understanding but not total agreement.
We’ve always done everything together as a unit. Everything we’ve built is due to that foundation we’ve laid since day one, but it’s only normal to want to branch out. We’ve all tried to in ways, big or small, and even they can’t deny me that.
After a breath, Mikhail murmurs, “I hope you realize how this looks.”
“I do.”
“You went off-books,” Roman adds, gesturing vaguely with barely-restrained anger.
“You put yourself in the middle of something like that without backup or something as little as a warning for the rest of us. What the fuck would you have done if something worse had happened? We would’ve had no clue, Nikolai. That’s reckless, even for you.”
Bristling internally, I grit my jaw a bit tighter to keep from bending under the pressure. “There were too many risks, both for what I had in the works and what we have here. I had it handled.”
“Did you?” He demands, eyes still blazing. “Because from what I’m gathering, it sounds like they slipped away.”
The words taste sour on my tongue as I force them out. “For now.”
“For now,” he echoes, unimpressed with a shake of his head.
For a long time, Roman sits in disbelief as the others contemplate what was said, and after a while, Sergey speaks up.
“You’re doing a good thing.” When all eyes shift to him, he just shrugs with a knowing yet subtle grin and adds, “But going rogue doesn’t make it smart.”
No. It doesn’t, even if I wasn’t entirely alone in it.
Eventually, Roman exhales slowly, and some of the edge bleeds out of him in a quiet concession. While not entirely gone, it’s enough to return oxygen to the room.
“Next time, Nikolai,” he says, absently tapping against the table’s smooth surface. “You loop us in. I don’t care about the details as long as you’ve got them covered, but let us know when you’re diving in.”
I don’t respond, not knowing what to say.
“Next time,” he repeats, firmer this time as he points in my direction. “No bullshit.”
“…no bullshit,” I echo with a vaguely tired-sounding exhale.
Mikhail glances over to me. “And what about the woman?”
“She stays where she is until I figure this out.”
With zero hesitation, I let my intentions be known and as clear as possible, since I’m not backing down from it.
Immediately, Roman’s gaze flicks to me again, and he looks all too knowing. “Careful.”
That one word says more than he needs to, and I catch his meaning without fail.
This thing, Dani included, is bleeding into places it shouldn’t, and my brothers aren’t idiots. They’ve faced their own questionable entanglements and have had to handle the consequences of them.
“Don’t let this cross over,” Roman adds, still stern, regardless of being merciful enough not to tear me a new one. “Our business stays clean and separate, just like you tried to do before.”
“It will.”
“And don’t let your emotions start making decisions for you.”
He doesn’t say her name, and he doesn’t have to. She’s been on my mind enough for me to draw that connection instinctively.
I don’t react, and I don’t give him anything to work with, but I’ve received the message loud and clear.
Roman huffs out a breath. “Handle your situation, but handle it right before someone else has to.”
“I will,” I tell him, planning on doing exactly that.
He studies me for another second, then nods once like his faith in me has been somewhat restored, but it’s precarious at best.
The conversation is over for now, but if I don’t make sense of all this, it won’t be the last I hear of it.
As I push off the desk and head for the door, I know one thing to be absolutely certain.
This isn’t just about business anymore, and that’s how things get dangerous.