Chapter 4 #2
The sentence is a mistake. It isn’t just an insult, it’s a dismissal. It’s the kind of line men use when they want to turn a person into currency.
Rowan isn’t a currency.
I straighten. My hand goes into my coat and comes out with my gun.
His eyes widen just slightly, the smallest crack in his certainty. “You can’t.”
I don’t argue. The shot is quiet in this room because of the sound-dampening panels, but it’s still a gunshot. It snaps through the air, leaving a ringing silence behind.
Maksim’s head jerks, and his body slackens, the chain rattling once as his weight pulls forward before going still. Blood runs in a narrow line down the steel leg of the chair, dark against the metal as it gathers near the drain.
I lower the weapon. My breathing remains calm. Not because I feel nothing, but because control isn’t optional. Control is survival.
I turn toward the door. Karp is waiting outside. His eyes dart past me into the room, then back to my face.
I hand him the gun without comment. “Dispose of it, quietly.”
Karp takes it. His expression tightens for a moment, then he nods once. He doesn’t question the choice. He understands it was necessary.
We leave the hallway together. The building feels the same. The lights hum. The cold persists. But the message has been sent through the veins of my organization.
Loyalty isn’t debated. It’s enforced.
And Arkady has just been reminded, without me ever needing to raise my voice, that I’m still the pakhan.
I step into the stairwell and start upward, already moving through the next problem. Arkady aligned with Ivan. Now I need the location. And I need it without Rowan ending up in the middle of my crossfire.
The upper level of the security wing is warmer, but the cold in my body doesn’t come from the weather. It comes from waiting.
I cross the courtyard and head into the operations room without announcing myself.
The men inside straighten at once, not from fear but from discipline that runs on instinct.
The room is lined with monitors, maps, and whiteboards marked in ink.
The screens show traffic cams, property feeds, and live updates from our teams.
Polina stands at the center table with a tablet in hand, her hair braided back tightly. She doesn’t look up when I enter. She keeps her attention on the screen.
Karp comes in behind me and closes the door.
I take my place at the table and study the largest monitor, where Arkady’s recent deviations from standard routes are mapped in red across the city.
Charlotte spreads out in blocks and veins, roads marked like arteries.
Snow shows along the edges of the satellite imagery. White patches against the dark asphalt.
“Update,” I prompt.
Polina lifts her eyes. “Arkady’s captain changed vehicles twice in the last hour. Both changes happened near industrial corridors. He’s avoiding main roads.”
That’s expected. Arkady isn’t stupid. He knows I’m watching him.
“What about Ivan?” I keep the name flat.
Polina’s fingers move across her tablet. “We have two possible sightings. One at a private garage in South End, and one at a storage complex near the train yard. No confirmed visual yet.”
Mikel leans a hand on the table. “They reacted already. Arkady tightened his circle. Three captains pulled back from their usual routes.”
A silent acknowledgment spreads through the room. Everyone understands what it means when someone pulls back. It means they’re hiding something. Or moving something.
Rowan.
My throat tightens at the thought. I keep my face blank. “Track the captains’ stops. Every door they open. Every gate they pass.”
Polina nods. “Already in motion.”
I stare at the map. “Arkady used Ivan to reach Rowan. That means he believes Ivan can do what his own men can’t.”
Mikel’s eyes narrow. “Information.”
“Access,” I correct. “Arkady thinks my territory belongs to him. He thinks Rowan can be used to pull me out of position.”
“If Arkady expects you to move on the properties he oversees, he won’t keep her there.” Polina keeps her eyes on the tablet.
“I know.” My jaw clenches.
Mikel watches me carefully. He’s been at my side long enough to recognize when my control is under strain. “You want direct confirmation.”
“I want certainty.” I point at the map. “If I go into the wrong building with automatic fire, she could be caught by mistake. That can’t happen.”
No one argues or breathes too loudly.
Polina turns the tablet so I can see. “We have a pattern. Arkady’s captains have been circling properties that aren’t on the Sovarin books.”
“Off-grid holdings.”
“Private leases under shell names,” she confirms. “He’s using external muscle.”
Ivan.
I tap the table once. “Pull the leases.”
Polina nods again, already moving.
Mikel leans closer. “One of Ivan’s men has been detained earlier.”
My attention locks. “Alive?”
“Alive.” Mikel’s expression remains tight. “The man isn’t speaking. I’m requesting permission for pressure.”
I glance at the monitor again. “Permission granted.”
Mikel nods and steps out of the room to relay the order. The door closes softly behind him.
I study the map and narrow my focus. Emotion doesn’t solve problems. Planning does.
Arkady’s goal isn’t simply to keep Rowan. It’s to show he can take what’s mine. He’s testing whether my men will follow him if he pushes hard enough. That’s why he used an internal man like Maksim. It wasn’t just convenience. It was a signal. A quiet poll. And now that poll is answered.
Polina clears her throat lightly, drawing my attention back. “There’s another issue.”
I hold her gaze. “Continue.”
“One of Arkady’s captains stopped at a clinic on the east side.” Her voice stays neutral, but her eyes sharpen. “A private medical office.”
The words hit me in the ribs. A clinic isn’t for business meetings.
“Time stamp,” I instruct.
Polina slides the tablet toward me. The footage is grainy. A vehicle pulls into a lot behind a small building. A man steps out. Arkady’s captain. He enters through a back door.
My body goes still in a way that has nothing to do with calm. A clinic means one of two things. Someone is hurt, or someone is being kept capable of enduring more. Either way, it isn’t random.
“Any evidence she’s there?”
Polina shakes her head. “No visual confirmation. The captain stayed eight minutes. Then left.”
My mind runs through the last known details. Rowan and Lila were taken together. If there’s an injury or illness, a clinic becomes relevant.
“Put eyes on that clinic. Quietly.”
Polina nods once.
I pace a single step, then stop. “Arkady’s captains avoiding main routes. Off-grid properties. A clinic stop.” I look at the map again. “He’s moving supplies to wherever they’re holding her.”
Polina’s fingers move again. “There are two rural properties that match the pattern. One outside Mint Hill. One near a private lake access road.”
The lake access road triggers a memory of Arkady’s holdings. He likes distance from neighbors and long drives that swallow gunfire.
My pulse ticks in my neck. “Get the teams together.”
Polina glances at the clock on the wall. “The snow will worsen after midnight.”
“Snow doesn’t stop bullets,” I respond.
Her lips press together, then she gives a nod.
I point to the map. “Split the teams. One to Mint Hill. One to the lake property. Don’t engage unless you see her. Confirm first. Twice. If there’s any doubt, pull back and wait.”
Polina starts assigning the teams. My men move quietly. Headsets go on. Weapons are checked. Maps are printed. The room transforms from planning to execution.
I watch it all with detached focus. This is what leadership looks like. Not bravado. Logistics.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen.
Unknown number.
I hold it for a moment, then answer without bringing it to my ear. “Speak.”
A voice comes through, distorted slightly by the connection. “You’re tightening your circle.”
Arkady’s voice is calm and amused.
My expression doesn’t change. “You’re calling from an unknown line.”
“Precaution,” he returns. “I would think you appreciate it.”
I keep my eyes on the map. “You aligned with an outsider.”
There’s a brief silence on the line. “Aligned is a strong word.”
“It’s accurate.”
Arkady’s breathing is calm, almost relaxed. “You’re escalating internally.”
“Internal discipline isn’t escalation,” I reply.
“It is when men start disappearing,” he states, the amusement thinning.
I don’t answer. I don’t need to confirm anything.
He continues, keeping his tone smooth. “You’re hunting ghosts. You won’t find her where you expect.”
My hand tightens around the phone, just enough to crease the edge against my palm.
“Your leverage isn’t a negotiation chip anymore,” I tell him. “You’ve crossed into territory you can’t walk back from.”
Arkady chuckles, soft and cold. “Listen to yourself. You sound like Nikolai.”
That’s meant to destabilize me. To shove me back into my father’s shadow.
I keep my voice neutral. “This is your only warning.”
“I don’t require warnings.” His voice lowers a fraction. “You require discipline. You’ve lost it.”
“I haven’t lost anything.” I watch my men moving around the table as they prepare to leave. “I’m retrieving what’s mine.”
Arkady pauses, then lowers his voice. “Be careful what you turn this into.”
I don’t answer immediately. When I do, my tone doesn’t rise. “You brought an outsider into my organization.”
The silence lingers on the line.
“I brought in leverage,” Arkady replies smoothly.
“You brought in a liability.”
Arkady pauses for a moment. “Ivan is useful.”
There it is. Not loyal. Not contained. Useful.
“That word won’t protect you,” I tell him.
Arkady exhales softly, almost amused. “You’re overreacting.”
“No,” I reply. “I’m responding.”
Silence.
“You brought her into this,” I continue. “You crossed the line to test my authority.”
Arkady doesn’t interrupt.
“You don’t test me with leverage,” I add. “You test me with force.”