Lev opens his mouth, then shuts it. “I don’t see how we need Elara to make David pay,” he insists. “She’s innocent.”
I level him with a hard look. He’s my brother, but right now there’s no room for softness. I’m not letting Elara go. They’ll have to find another argument if they want her freed. But I guarantee them that nothing will work.
“I’m with Lev on this one,” Kaz says. “If the man’s daughter is innocent, leave her out of it.”
“I’m not.”
Heads turn. A slow, curious silence settles over the table.
“Why not, Roman?” Lukin asks, calm as a judge.
I force my mouth to form an answer because the truth tastes worse than any lie. Logic first. Strategy second. “Because—” I search for the clean, tactical rationale. “Because she’s exactly the kind of pressure point you exploit when a man thinkshe still controls everything. David won’t let her vanish without a scene. He’ll cry to the press, to the cops, to anyone who’ll listen. That noise gives us options.”
Niko’s patience thins. “I don’t see your point,” he says.
“You’re not listening,” I bite back. “She’s not just a person in this equation; she’s leverage. Remove the opponent’s pawn, and you change the game on his board.” My voice hardens. “We can use that leverage to force David’s hand without laying siege to his whole empire.”
Kaz folds his hands. “I’d prefer we deal with David directly,” he says. “Cut the head off, not play games with his family.”
“That’ll make it harder,” I say flatly. The room tightens. I can feel Lev bristling beside me—he’s thinking about Sasha.
“Dangerous for the family image,” Lev warns quietly. “Elara’s known in those circles—this could spin out.”
“What do you mean?” I turn to him.
“You’re missing the practical fallout, Roman,” he says. “We’ve always operated under the radar. We don’t do headlines. Kidnapping David Chang’s daughter—a woman with social standing, gallery ties, friends in high places—will make him howl to the press, the police, every charity board and senator he can reach. The moment he cries, cameras and investigators swarm. That attention chokes lanes and draws heat we don’t need.”
The room goes quieter. I can feel the weight of what he’s saying settle like ice.
“Publicity is poison,” he continues. “If David screams to the world, we end up defending ourselves in courtrooms and headlines instead of moving against him cleanly.”
I stare at Kaz, test my temper against his logic. “So we keep our hands clean while David keeps selling off pieces of other people’s lives,” I say. “Or we take the one thing that will force him into the open and make him bleed on our terms.” Mytone leaves no room for debate. “She’s a pawn now, but with direction, she becomes a weapon. That’s what I’m thinking.”
My jaw tightens. “This isn’t a PR contest. It’s leverage. We press him where he breathes and make him show his hand.”
“That’s a sound argument,” Lukin says finally. He leans back, fingers steepled. “How long have you had her with you?”
“Two weeks,” I answer.
A low murmur ripples around the table. The men lean in, waiting.
“We can’t let her go now,” Lukin says. “If we do, she runs straight to her father, and we’ll have the press on our backs.” He lets the words hang. “She’ll sing.”
“So what are you saying?” Kaz asks.
The room falls quiet. Lukin studies me for a long beat before he speaks, slow and measured. “Here’s my verdict as Pakhan.”
I sit up, bracing to argue, to refuse.
“We kill her,” he says.
For a second, the world tilts. “What?” I snap.
Shouts erupt around the table—angry, shocked, incredulous. Lukin lets the noise run its course, then raises a hand until the clamor ebbs.
“As I said,” he continues, voice flat. “If we let her go, she draws bad press. If we kill her, she’s gone, and no one can tie it back to us. Problem solved. Right, Roman?” He nods at me as if the logic should be obvious.
My pulse jumps, and hot anger drums against my ribs. “Respectfully, that’s not happening,” I say, keeping my voice steady though it trembles. “I won’t kill her. Neither will any of you.”