Prologue
Dion
The moment we were escorted into Boris Sidorov's private study, I'd expected a bullet. Gideon’s car had been surrounded by four cars complete with armed guards as we had paused outside the security gate that led to our private compound of houses. In a shoot out we would die, so we just did as directed. We didn’t need to hear the faint accent that accompanied the orders to know the raid two months ago on the private estate where we’d rescued Emily had come back to bite us on our asses.
Not that I ever regretted it obviously. But we’d been set up. Rice had leaked information deliberately making us think wewere raiding his place, when in reality we were raiding a place owned by the younger son of Boris Sidorov, the Pakhan or Boss of the Russian mafia - the Bratva.
The ornate room we were eventually led into with its dark wood paneling and crystal decanters seemed an oddly civilized place to die, but the Bratva wasn't known for its mercy. Gideon stood beside me, his posture military-straight despite the two armed guards flanking us.
Boris Sidorov himself was a surprise—older than I'd expected, with silver at his temples and keen eyes that missed nothing. He studied us from behind a massive desk, fingers steepled, then dismissed one of the men.
"So," he said, his Russian accent thick but perfectly understandable, "you are the men who raided Eagle Reserve."
It wasn't a question. I exchanged a glance with Gideon, a silent agreement passing between us. No point denying it now.
"Yes," Gideon answered, voice steady.
What happened next shocked me to my core. Sidorov's stern expression cracked into something resembling approval.
"Good," he said, rising from his chair. "My son Alexei's operation was... unauthorized."
He walked to a cabinet and pulled out three crystal glasses, pouring an amber liquid that looked expensive. When he offered us each a glass, I hesitated before accepting mine.
"You think I poison you?" Sidorov laughed, a rough sound. "If I wanted you dead, we would not be having drinks." As if to prove his point, he took a sip from his own glass.
"Your son ran the trafficking ring?" Gideon asked carefully.
Sidorov's face darkened. "My son knows my feelings about such things. He did this to provoke me." He set his glass down with controlled precision. "He has been... dealt with."
Something in his tone made my skin crawl. I didn't want to know what "dealt with" meant in Bratva terms.
"Then if you don’t want us dead," I said. "Why are we here?"
Sidorov's eyes met mine, and I was startled to see genuine emotion there. He crossed to a framed photo on a side table and turned it toward us. The picture showed him with a petite woman who couldn't have been more than thirty. She wore a delicate dress with a bow in her hair, looking up at him with absolute trust.
"This is Katya," he said softly. "My Little girl."
We knew this. Eric had insisted, but it still didn’t make it any less shocking to have it confirmed.
"Alexei knows this about me," Sidorov continued, his voice hardening. "He thinks my care for Katya makes me weak. The trafficking ring was his way of mocking what we have, of perverting it."
Gideon recovered first. "So we’re not here to be killed for interfering with Bratva business?"
“You don’t look particularly frightened,” Sidorov remarked, dryly. “But kill you? I should thank you. You saved those women from my son's depravity and showed him that his actions have consequences." His smile vanished. "But we have a problem. Alexei may be dealt with, but Jonathon Rice is still alive."
Rice owned many clubs and had never forgiven us for managing to get the zoning change allowing us to build Kingdom, but his personal dislike had turned into a vendetta.
The way Sidorov said Rice's name made it clear what he thought should happen to that particular problem, and I couldn't disagree.
"Rice was working with your son?" I asked, though pieces were already clicking into place. “We thought he’d just set him up to get to us.”
"Rice provided the connections, the cover. Made it look legitimate on paper." Sidorov returned to his desk, hismovements deliberate. "My sources tell me he also knows about Katya now. About what she means to me."
The implication hit me like a freight train. Rice had leverage over one of the most dangerous men in the state, and that made him exponentially more threatening.
"What exactly are you asking us to do?" Gideon's voice carried the weight of a man who'd been down this road before.
"I am not asking anything, but please take this as a warning." Sidorov's tone left no room for interpretation. "Rice knows too much. He has threatened what is mine. In my world, there is only one response to such threats.” he paused. “I know you have more restrictions, but I wanted you to be aware that Rice doesn’t like to lose. I can protect what is mine. This is a warning to protect what is yours.”
