20. Nikolai
20
Nikolai
The air inside the dimly lit lounge is thick with smoke and the scent of aged whiskey. This is neutral territory—a forgotten speakeasy tucked beneath the skeleton of an abandoned hotel. Its seclusion makes it the perfect meeting place. I sit at the head of a weathered oak table, my fingers drumming a quiet rhythm against the wood as I wait for my people to arrive.
I’ve been planning my father’s downfall for months, chipping away at his empire like a mason carving marble, each strike precise, each move deliberate. The recent revelations about Novikov have accelerated everything. The pieces are aligning faster than I anticipated, and tonight is about ensuring they fall exactly where I want them.
The door creaks open, and I look up to see Sergei and Viktor entering. Both men are loyal to me, trusted confidants who’ve been with me since I started laying the groundwork to dismantle Mikhail’s operation. They were my uncle’s men. Now they are mine.
“Boss,” Viktor greets, his voice low but respectful. He takes a seat across from me, his sharp brown eyes scanning the room out of habit. Sergei follows, his bulk filling the space as he settles next to Viktor.
I nod in acknowledgment. “Let’s get started.”
Viktor leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “We’ve confirmed that Novikov’s been consolidating his assets. If Mikhail gets wind of how deep his betrayal goes, it’ll be a bloodbath.”
“Mikhail’s not an idiot,” Sergei says, his voice a low rumble. “He’s already suspicious. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out.”
“He’s already found out. That’s why we need to move quickly,” I say, my tone sharp. “Novikov is an asset, not a liability. We need to ensure he’s on our side when the time comes.”
Sergei raises an eyebrow. “And if he’s not?”
“Then he’s expendable,” I reply coldly. “But I believe he’s already chosen his path. He was loyal to Vlasta, and he offered his loyalty to Mikhail in turn. But Mikhail abused the privilege. Novikov despises Mikhail for what he did to his daughter, and he’s been waiting for the right moment to strike.”
“His daughter?” Sergei asks.
“Married her off to a man three times her age in Belarus. Told Novikov he only had two choices…agree or watch her die,” Viktor says.
“Novikov was not fond of the options,” I say.
Viktor smirks. “You’ve got a knack for turning Mikhail’s allies into your own.”
“It’s not about turning them,” I say. “It’s about giving them something Mikhail can’t—freedom, loyalty, respect. The things he’s incapable of offering.”
Sergei nods slowly. “What’s the next move?”
“I’ll meet with Novikov myself,” I say. “Secure his allegiance and make it clear that when Mikhail falls, he’ll have a place in the new order. But first…” I pause, glancing at my watch. “I have a meeting with Maxim.”
Viktor’s expression darkens. “You trust him?”
“No,” I admit. “But I’m willing to listen to what he has to say.”
Twenty minutes later, I stand in the rain in a narrow alley that’s slick, glistening labyrinth. The neutral meeting point—an unmarked door tucked between an abandoned bakery and a derelict pawnshop—was chosen for its sheer anonymity.
I push it open and step inside. The dimly lit room is spartan, with walls painted a faded gray and a single bulb casting flickering light over the stained concrete floor. A table and two chairs are the only furnishings, their battered surfaces bearing the scars of countless tense conversations.
Maxim is already waiting, leaning back in his chair with a studied casualness that doesn’t fool me. His sharp features are illuminated by the glow of his phone, but he sets it aside the moment the door closes behind me. The heavy latch clicks into place, and the sound feels louder than it should.
“Nikolai,” he says, his voice calm but edged with something darker. “You came alone.”
“You expected otherwise?” I reply, taking the chair opposite him.
Maxim studies me for a moment, his dark eyes searching for something. “No,” he admits. “I suppose not.” He nods at the gun in my hand, and holds up his own empty hands. “You won’t need that.”
I set it on the table, in easy reach.
The tension in the room is palpable, each of us wary, each of us weighing the stakes. Ever since my uncle’s death, I’ve believed Maxim was Mikhail’s lackey, a willing pawn in my father’s endless schemes. Now, sitting across from him, I see the cracks in that facade. His exhaustion isn’t just physical; it’s the weight of a man who’s played a dangerous game for far too long.
“Let’s not waste time,” I say, leaning forward. “You said you had something for me.”
He nods, sliding a thin, black flash drive across the table.
“Everything you need,” he says. “Bank accounts. Shipping manifests. Contacts. Enough to dismantle Mikhail’s empire piece by piece.”
I pick up the drive, turning it over in my hand. “Why now, Maxim? Why reveal your hand after all this time?”
He grins, a shadow of the boy I once trusted. “You’ve always been smart, Nikolai. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
I arch an eyebrow but say nothing, waiting for him to continue.
“Every time I told Mikhail privileged information in front of you, every piece of intel I ‘accidentally’ let slip…” He leans closer, his voice dropping. “It wasn’t for him. It was for you. I’ve been on your side all along, you fucking ass.”
The words hit like a thunderclap, shaking loose layers of resentment and confusion.
“You were feeding me breadcrumbs,” I say, the realization settling in. “Doing it right in front of him so he could never suspect you of betrayal.”
“Exactly,” he says. “Mikhail trusts me because he thinks I worship him. But I’ve hated that man since the day he took Vlasta’s throne. Everything I’ve done has been to get close enough to destroy him.”
The admission hangs in the air, and I study Maxim, looking for signs of deception. But his eyes burn with a fury that matches my own, and I believe him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’re a decent actor, Nikolai, but I didn’t want to bet my life on your skills. You couldn’t slip up if you didn’t know.”
“If you’re lying…” I begin, my tone sharp.
“I’m not,” he interrupts. “And if you’re half the man Vlasta believed you could be, you’ll know how to use this.”
I slip the drive into my pocket, my mind already racing with possibilities. The evidence Maxim has handed me isn’t just a weapon; it’s the key to everything I’ve been working toward.
Mikhail’s downfall is no longer a distant dream—it’s within reach.
Maxim leans back, his expression softening. “This isn’t just about revenge for me,” he says quietly. “It’s about survival. Mikhail’s chaos will destroy us all if we let it. You’re the only one who can stop him.”
“I will,” I say, my voice cold and certain. “And when I do, there will be no place for men like Mikhail in the world I build.”
Later, as I drive through the rain-slicked streets of Las Vegas, my thoughts drift to Sabina. The latest delivery would have reached her by now—the soft blue cashmere shawl I chose because it reminded me of her eyes. I wonder if she’s unwrapped it yet, if she’s draped it over her shoulders or curled up with it against her skin.
The image that comes to mind is more potent than I expect. Sabina, her dark hair tumbling over bare shoulders, wearing nothing but the shawl. The thought twists something deep inside me—a dangerous mix of longing and possessiveness.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, forcing myself back to reality. The gifts are my only way of reaching her now, silent tokens of what I can’t say out loud. She’s safer this way, hidden within the Russo compound, surrounded by her family and their security. But even their fortress isn’t impenetrable, and the thought of Mikhail discovering her significance to me is a risk I can’t take.
Everything I’m doing—every step I take—is for her. When Mikhail is gone, when I’m the one sitting at the head of this empire, I’ll make sure Sabina is untouchable.
And then there’s the alliance with the Russos, the vision of a future that my Uncle Vlasta would have been proud of. A world where power doesn’t mean chaos, where strength isn’t synonymous with cruelty. It’s a future I can almost taste, and the thought of it sharpens my resolve.
The call with Leo is brief but impactful. I stand on the balcony of my penthouse, the city’s neon glow reflecting in the glass of my whiskey tumbler as I outline my next moves.
“The evidence Maxim gave me is solid,” I tell him. “When the time comes, Mikhail won’t see it coming.”
“And the alliance you proposed at my sister’s engagement party?” Leo asks, his voice laced with dark amusement. “Impeccable timing and unparalleled arrogance, offering marriage to a woman who was already promised to another.”
“She is no longer promised to another,” I point out. “And my offer of an alliance stands.”
“An alliance or marriage?” Leo asks.
“Both,” I say.
“Only if she wants it,” Leo says. “I will not have her coerced or pressured.”
“She’ll have me of her own free will or not at all,” I snap.
“Good,” Leo says. “But remember, Nikolai—this isn’t just about us. The men who follow you, the men who follow me—they’ll need to believe in this.”
“They will,” I say, my voice firm. “When they see what we can accomplish, they’ll believe.”