The next morning, the "Ice Pakhan" was back in full force.
There was no trace.
Inside was a suit. Not a business suit, but a weapon made of charcoal wool and silk. It fit like a second skin, making me look older, sharper, and far more dangerous than I felt.
"The Pakhan is waiting in the dining hall," the maid whispered, her eyes downcast. "Please, don't be late."
I followed her through the labyrinthine hallways. The mansion felt different today. Now that I knew the Italians were hunting me, every shadow felt like a lurking threat, and every window felt like a bullseye.
When we reached the dining hall, the air was thick with the smell of espresso and expensive tobacco. Dimitri was at the head of the long table, a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. But he wasn't alone.
To his right sat Yuri, looking as immovable as a stone gargoyle. To his left was a man who looked like a younger, more reckless version of Dimitri. He had the same dark hair and piercing eyes, but his smile was sharp and lacked the Pakhan's icy control.
Dimitri didn't look up as I entered. "Sit, Maya."
I took the chair at the opposite end of the table. The younger man whistled low, his eyes raking over me with an annoying level of familiarity.
"So, this is the three-million-dollar girl," he said, his English accented but perfect. "I see why you didn't just take the cash, brother. She has fire in her eyes. I like fire."
"Viktor," Dimitri said, his voice a low warning. He didn't look at his brother, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop five degrees. "Watch your tongue. You are looking at the future Mrs. Volkova. Show the respect that title demands, or I will have Yuri remove it for you."
Viktor raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, though his smirk remained. "Just a compliment, Pakhan. No need to get the pliers out."
Dimitri finally set the tablet down and looked at me. His gaze was clinical, assessing. "Maya, this is Viktor, my younger brother and the head of our logistics. And you already know Yuri, my Vor and head of security."
"Logistics," I repeated, my voice steady despite the way my pulse was racing. "Is that what we're calling smuggling and extortion now?"
Yuri let out a dry, rasping sound that might have been a laugh. Viktor chuckled loudly.
"She's sharp, Dimitri. I'll give her that," Viktor said. He turned to me, his expression sobering just a fraction. "In this world, Maya, logistics means making sure our enemies stay hungry and our friends stay fed. Right now, your father's little 'hobby' has made a lot of people hungry. The Romanos are barking at the gate."
"They aren't just barking," Yuri added, his voice like gravel. "Our scouts spotted two Romano vehicles circling the perimeter of the estate this morning. They're testing the fences."
A cold shiver raced down my spine. The reality of the file I'd read yesterday was sitting right here at the breakfast table. This wasn't a story. This was a war.
"What does that mean for me?" I asked, looking directly at Dimitri.
Dimitri stood up, buttoning his jacket. The movement was fluid and predatory. He walked the length of the table until he stood directly behind my chair. He leaned down, his hands resting on my shoulders. His touch was heavy, a reminder of the "claim" he had made the night before.
"It means that today, you start your public life," Dimitri said. "There is a charity gala tonight at the Metropolitan. Every major family in the city will be there—including the Romanos. We are going to show them that you are under my protection. We are going to show them that you aren't a debt to be collected, but a Volkov to be feared."
"You want to use me as a shield," I whispered.
"No," Dimitri murmured into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "I want to use you as a message. I want them to see the woman I chose and realize that if they touch a hair on your head, I will burn their world to the ground. You will wear the diamonds I gave you. You will stay by my side. And you will not flinch."
He straightened up and looked at Viktor. "Is the perimeter secure for the transport?"
"Armored SUVs are ready. Yuri is taking the lead. I'll be in the follow car," Viktor confirmed, his playful demeanor gone.
Dimitri looked back at me. "Viktor will spend the afternoon with you, Maya. He will brief you on the names and faces you need to know. Do not forget them. A mistake tonight isn't just a social faux pas; it's an opening for a bullet."
He turned to leave, but I found my voice before he reached the door.
"Dimitri?"
He paused, looking back over his shoulder.
"Why the gala? If it's so dangerous, why take me out at all?"
Dimitri's eyes darkened, a flicker of something raw and possessive crossing his face. "Because, Maya, the only way to stop a predator from hunting is to show him that the prey is already owned by something much, much bigger."
He left without another word.
Viktor slid a folder across the table toward me. It was filled with surveillance photos of men in expensive suits—the Romano family.
"Don't worry, sister-in-law," Viktor said, his smirk returning. "I'll make sure you know exactly which snakes to avoid. But for now? Drink your coffee. It's going to be a very long day."
I looked at the photos, then at Yuri, who was already checking his weapon. I wasn't just Maya Sokolova anymore. I was a piece on a chessboard I didn't understand, being moved by a man who refused to let me lose.
I picked up the coffee cup. My hand didn't shake. If I was going into the lion's den, I was going to do it with my head held high.