Page 14 of Lobanov Bratva Obsession
*****
Dawn found me in the secure conference room in Red Hook, the same space where I'd first presented Elena's threat to my brothers. Except now the threat had evolved into something more complex, more like a weapon.
Time was the enemy now. Every day Elena lived, she became simultaneously more dangerous and more valuable.
And the Pakhan's patience was running out. And the others who were present—Roman, Konstantin, and Alexei—weren’t any less concerned. We had gathered to pore over the intel we’d been able to gather overnight.
"Tell me something good," Viktor said without preamble, dropping into his chair like a king claiming a throne.
"The Kozlov shipment is ash," I reported. "Clean operation. No casualties. But they knew we were coming."
Roman's jaw tightened. "Active leak."
"And even bolder." I spread surveillance photos across the table—images captured over the last seventy-two hours showing known associates, unusual meetings, phone records that didn't quite add up. "Elena was right. The lawsuit is forcing whoever's feeding information to move faster. They're making mistakes."
"Have we identified them?" Konstantin leaned forward, his scarred knuckles white against the table's edge.
"Not yet. But the next filing will." I pulled up the draft documents Elena had shown me, now annotated with Roman's financial analysis. "This names specific transactions from the last six months. Dates, amounts, routing numbers. Information that only exists in our internal systems."
Alexei whistled low. "Whoever leaked this will panic the moment these go public."
"Exactly." Roman tapped one particular transaction. "This one's especially problematic. It's a wire transfer that moved through three intermediaries before landing in a Caymanaccount. The only people who knew the full routing were myself, Viktor, our primary accountant Marcus Chen, and—"
"Yuri," I finished.
“Hm,” Viktor uttered, the single sound carrying more meaning than could be ignored.
“Brother, that’s his right-hand man,” Konstantin pointed out.
“Well, Damian, you have to resolve the Elena problem once the next filing goes through. Permanently, this time,” Viktor ordered.
That was the exact moment I made my decision. A permanent one—just a different one.
The Bratva law didn’t grant protection through mercy, but through ownership. While a woman outside the Bratva is expendable, a woman under the protection of the Lobanov Bratva is untouchable. Currently, Elena existed in a lethal in-between.
So, I’d just bring her under the right category.
"She's more useful alive," I said, keeping my voice level despite the tightness in my chest. "Every filing gives us leverage. Every disclosure she controls gives us weapons against our enemies."
“But she’s exposed,” Roman said. “That doesn’t bode well for us at a time like this. You know that.”
“We can very well do without her control over disclosure,” Viktor declared. “So I disagree with you.”
I should have accepted it. Should have nodded and confirmed the order and done what I'd done a hundred times before—eliminated a threat with professional efficiency and no emotional attachment. But even the thought of accepting his order made me crazy with anger and something desperate.
“What if we can get her control over disclosure and also make sure she’s not exposed?”
Everyone looked at me with questioning gazes, except the Pakhan, whose expression was like that of a father watching his son attempt to put his over-the-clouds theory into practice.
The temperature dropped ten degrees.
“Elena Vasiliev is the most valuable asset we've acquired in years. She understands law and crime. She can navigate federal systems and Bratva politics. She's already proven she can identify structural weaknesses we didn't know existed."
“And you think she'll do that for us willingly? After the kidnap?” he questioned, raising a brow.
This was it. The moment when I committed to something I couldn’t take back.
“Marriage.”
