Eduard
I watch Krystal’s face as she struggles with the decision, her hazel eyes darting between Emma and the windows where Volkov can be seen walking up the sidewalk.
The silence stretches, heavy with tension.
Emma stands beside her friend, hope written clearly across her features.
Having Krystal with her and away from Volkov means a lot to her. But it’s Krystal’s decision.
And I can see the appreciation in Emma’s gray-green eyes when she looks at me. She understands what I’m offering Krystal. The same choice we gave her. The freedom to decide her own future instead of having it dictated by men who think they own her.
Krystal’s breathing is shallow, her delicate frame trembling. Minutes tick by, each one feeling like an hour. Finally, she nods slowly, her honey-blonde hair falling forward to partially hide her face.
“I want to stay,” she whispers. Then louder, stronger. “I want to stay with you.”
Relief floods Emma’s expression and she pulls Krystal into a careful hug. I exchange glances with Rurik and Artur. We all know this decision just made our lives significantly more complicated. Volkov doesn’t give up his assets easily—and Krystal has been his for a year.
“Let’s go talk to him,” Rurik says, his pale blue eyes cold.
We move toward the front entrance, Emma and Krystal following close behind.
The guards open the doors and we step out into the afternoon sunlight.
Volkov stands at the bottom of the steps, his tall frame relaxed, his pale gray eyes assessing.
Four bodyguards flank him, their hands resting near concealed weapons.
“Gentlemen,” Volkov says, his voice smooth and controlled. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. Krystal belongs to me. I’m here to retrieve what’s mine.”
“She’s not yours anymore,” Rurik says flatly. “She’s chosen to stay here.”
Volkov’s gaze shifts to Krystal, something dangerous flickering in his expression. “Is that true, Krystal? You’re choosing to abandon everything I’ve given you?”
Krystal steps forward, and I’m impressed by the steadiness in her voice when she speaks. “I’m choosing freedom. I’m staying with Emma.”
For a long moment, Volkov just stares at her. Then his attention shifts to Emma, and I see exactly what he’s thinking. His pale gray eyes travel over her face, her body, but it’s not sexual interest I see there. It’s calculation and assessment.
He wants Emma for what she knows. For the FBI training and intelligence she could provide. For the access she represents to federal systems and investigative techniques. Emma would be worth more to him than a dozen women like Krystal.
“Perhaps we can negotiate,” Volkov says, his gaze still locked on Emma. “I’m willing to purchase the FBI agent. Name your price.”
Anger flares hot in my chest, but before I can respond Emma steps forward. Her gray-green eyes blaze with fury as she faces down one of the most dangerous men in the Bratva without flinching.
“There’s no way in hell you’ll get your filthy hands on me,” she says, her voice sharp as a blade.
Volkov’s expression hardens, the civilized mask slipping just enough to reveal the ruthless predator underneath. “Everything has a price, Agent Moore. You’ll learn that eventually.”
“The only thing I’m learning,” Emma says, stepping closer, “is that men like you think you can buy and sell people like property. But I’m not property. And neither is Krystal.”
The tension thickens, dangerous and volatile. Volkov’s bodyguards shift their weight, hands moving toward weapons. Rurik, Artur, and I respond automatically, our own hands going to the guns we carry. For a heartbeat, I think violence is inevitable.
Then Volkov smiles, cold and humorless. “We’ll see, Agent Moore. We’ll see.”
He turns and walks back to his SUV with controlled grace, his bodyguards following. Within seconds, the vehicles are pulling away from the estate, disappearing down the tree-lined drive.
I exhale slowly, my hand still resting on my weapon. That went better than expected, but the look on Volkov’s face as he left tells me we haven’t heard the last of this. He’s not the type to accept defeat gracefully.
Emma turns to face us, her chest heaving with barely controlled adrenaline. “That bastard actually tried to buy me. Right in front of you.”
“He’s testing boundaries,” Rurik says, his jaw tight. “Seeing how far he can push before we push back.”
“Well, he got his answer,” Emma mutters.
Artur grins despite the tension. “You handled that well, sweetheart. Telling off a Bratva boss takes balls.”
“Don’t call me that.” Emma rolls her eyes. Does she even realize she’s saying it or has it just become a reflex?
Krystal moves closer to Emma, her face pale. “He’s going to come back. He won’t let this go.”
“Let him try,” I say quietly. “He’ll find out exactly what happens when he threatens what’s ours.”
Emma’s gaze finds mine and something passes between us. Understanding, maybe. Or trust. She knows we’ll protect her and Krystal, no matter what it costs.
“Come on,” Emma says to Krystal, taking her friend’s hand. “Let’s go talk.”
They head back inside, and I watch Emma’s ass and the sassy bounce to her cheeks in those fitted jeans as she walks. Fuck, I want her. I doubt there will ever be a time when I don’t want her. No matter the situation, my mind always conjures up sex when she’s around.
Rurik, Artur, and I head to the office, the tension from the confrontation still humming through my veins. The moment the door closes behind us, Rurik moves to the bar and pours three glasses of vodka. We drink in silence, letting the alcohol burn away some of the adrenaline.
“This is going to get worse before it gets better,” Artur says, dropping into one of the leather chairs. “Volkov doesn’t give up on assets he wants. And now we’ve got two women every Bratva family in the city is interested in.”
“Emma because she’s FBI,” I say, settling into the chair across from him. “Krystal because she’s been trained by Volkov and knows his operations.”
Rurik leans against the desk, his pale blue eyes thoughtful. “We need to increase security and keep both women inside the estate until we know what Volkov’s planning.”
“Emma’s not going to like being confined,” I point out.
“Emma almost got shot today,” Rurik says flatly. “She’ll deal with it.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t argue. We spend the next hour going over security protocols, discussing contingency plans, and mapping out potential threats. The reality is stark. We’ve made enemies of powerful people by refusing to share Emma and by taking Krystal from Volkov.
And we still have the FBI mole to worry about. I’m convinced it was FBI who took a shot at her. Whoever tried to have Emma killed isn’t going to stop just because the first attempt failed. They’ll try again, and next time they might succeed.
“We need to find out who ordered that hit,” I say, refilling my glass. “If it’s Langford, we need proof. Something concrete enough that Emma can’t deny it anymore.”
Artur’s expression darkens. “She doesn’t want to believe it’s him, but she’s run out of excuses for him, too. She knows it deep in her heart, but I don’t think she’s ready to admit as much out loud.”
“Which makes the betrayal worse,” Rurik says quietly. “But we can’t protect her from the truth. She needs to know who her real enemies are.”
The conversation continues, circling through strategies and scenarios. By the time we finish, the afternoon light has faded to early evening. My shoulders ache from tension, and I’m ready for a break from this doom and gloom conversation.
“I’ll go tell the women dinner’s ready,” I say, standing.
Rurik nods, already pulling out his phone to coordinate with the security team. Artur stretches in his chair, his dark eyes tired.
I head upstairs to Krystal’s room, my boots quiet against the marble floors. The hallway is empty, the estate settling into its evening rhythm. As I approach the door, I hear voices inside. Emma and Krystal, talking quietly.
I’m about to knock when Krystal’s words stop me in my tracks.
“Emma, you need to be careful. Eduard, Artur, and Rurik are only using you.”
My hand freezes inches from the door.
“What are you talking about?” Emma’s voice is sharp, defensive.
“They bought you at an auction,” Krystal says, her tone gentle but firm. “They’re Bratva bosses. Men like that don’t fall in love. They collect assets. And right now, you’re valuable to them because of your FBI training and connections.”
“That’s not true,” Emma argues, but I hear the doubt creeping into her voice.
“Maybe they care about you in their own way,” Krystal continues. “But don’t let your heart get involved. Don’t mistake protection for love. These men are dangerous, Emma. They kill people. They run criminal empires. You can’t trust them completely.”
Silence follows, heavy and painful. I stand frozen in the hallway, my chest tight and my lips pressed into a thin line. How dare Krystal try and turn Emma against us when we just saved her from servitude to Volkov.
Is that what Emma thinks, though? That we’re just using her? That everything between us is manipulation and strategy?
I should walk away. Should give them privacy and pretend I didn’t hear any of this. But I can’t move. Can’t stop listening for Emma’s response.
“I know what they are,” Emma says finally, her voice quiet. “But they’ve protected me. They’ve helped me investigate the mole. They gave both of us a choice when they didn’t have to.”
“Because it serves their purposes,” Krystal says. “Emma, please. I’m just trying to keep you safe. Don’t fall for them. Don’t let yourself believe this is something it’s not.”