I had every reason to cut them off after that and yet, here I am, patching them both in to a conference call. My hands hover over the burner keypad for a long moment. Each number I press feels like swallowing pride in bitter mouthfulsas I route the calls through encrypted lines, bury the signal beneath layers of code.
While they may believe they owe me nothing, they also know better than to ignore a direct call from me. We may have been at odds during the war, dancing the fine line between alliance and silent opposition, and we’ve remained at a cold standstill ever since, but I am still theirPakhan. Even the boldest wolves know better than to pretend the Alpha's growl means nothing.
It doesn’t take long for either of them to answer. The screen flickers once, then splits cleanly between their feeds.
Luka appears first. He’s draped across a leather chair in what looks like a penthouse high above St. Petersburg. Dark windows are behind him, city lights glinting like stars at his back. He’s nursing a cigar, the smoke curling in lazy spirals toward the ceiling. His shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, but the gleam in his eyes is anything but relaxed.
Alisa appears next, as collected and deadly as always. She sits on a velvet chaise, a silk robe tied loosely around her waist and a wine glass poised between her fingers like a weapon of elegance. Her white hair is slicked back, her lips painted the color of dried blood. She doesn’t smile, but her gaze is sharp and watchful.
I don’t waste time. “Anton’s son took my child and the woman who bore him.”
Luka’s brow lifts with slow, theatrical surprise. “You had a child?”
Alisa doesn’t blink. “That American tutor.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You knew.”
Her silence is all the confirmation I need. The tilt of her chin, the way her gaze doesn’t drop, tells me it wasn’t just a guess.
“I suspected. You were never good at hiding your distractions, Maksim. That woman was the first thing to ever rattle you,” she clarifies coolly, swirling the wine in her glass.
Luka chuckles. “So that’s why you disappeared off the map for months. We all assumed you were licking wounds after the Anton fallout. Turns out you were playing house.”
I don't dignify that with a response. My voice is hard as steel when I speak again. “I’m not calling for your amusement. I’m calling because I’m being blackmailed. Mikhail is using them against me to get what he wants.”
Alisa’s wine glass stills mid-swirl, the burgundy liquid sloshing once before settling. Her gaze sharpens. Luka shifts too, straightening slightly in his leather chair, no longer lounging. His smirk fades, replaced by a flicker of curiosity.
“Which is?” she asks.
I exhale through my nose and lean back, dragging a hand through my hair in frustration. “The Bratva. Full control over it. That’s what he wants.”
The words taste like ash in my mouth, but there’s no use dressing it up.
“He’s not stupid,” I go on. “He’s been… terrifyingly methodical this entire time. Just like his father was. We haven’t been able to track him since his first sighting in the States weeks ago. Every move he’s made has been calculated. I didn’t even know he was alive until I got the initial phone call when he first took them.”
Luka lets out a low whistle, dragging the tip of his cigar across the edge of an ashtray. “So that’s the game. He wants your crown. Why in the world did you let him take them from you?”
“They were never supposed to be part of this,” I say, jaw tightening.
Alisa’s face doesn’t shift. She sets her glass aside with deliberate care, then rests her elbows on her knees, her silk robe parting just enough to reveal the black steel of a holstered pistol at her thigh. “Then you should’ve kept your girl somewhere safe instead of letting her walk away the first time.”
My teeth grind. “She didn’t want this world.”
“She had your heir, Maksim,” Alisa snaps, fire catching in her eyes like dry kindling. “While you may not have known at the time she was carrying him, you let her disappearknowingthere was a chance. That’s not selfless. That’s stupid. That’s you being a coward about facing what this life costs.”
“I thought she would be safe far away from the war. No one was supposed to know she existed.”
Alisa hisses, rising partway up from her couch. “You don’t let a woman like that disappear into the world alone, Maksim. Youespeciallydon’t let her vanish when you know your enemies are still out there, waiting for you to fuck up and make a mistake like this. You think you’re the only man in this world with secrets? We all carry them. The difference is, we know better than to leave our weaknesses unguarded.”
Luka chuckles, leaning back again with a casual shrug. “What does it matter, anyway? Women come and go. As do children. Heirs are replaceable. Bloodlines can be rewritten. It isn’t as if anyone has to know that one is your first born. Besides, if he dies, then he won’t be.”
“Shut your mouth,” I growl.
Luka blinks, surprised. “Touchy.”
My voice is low, edged with warning. “I mean it, Luka. One more word.”
For a moment, neither of us wavers, the years of unspoken tension pressing down on us. Luka’s gaze holds mine, testing the boundaries, seeing how far he can push it before I snap. He’s always been like this, too bored to care about consequences unless they show up armed and angry at his front door.