Page 13 of Lobanov Bratva Obsession
“Now that we’ll be working together to an extent, we should discuss next steps. You’re here already.”
“I’m listening,” he answered, blinking once.
“The lawsuit needs to proceed. It shouldn’t be stopped. Only that it will be controlled now. The next filing will force the traitor into action.”
For many seconds, he seemed to study me with the same intensity he’d probably use examining battle plans. “You’re using yourself as bait.”
“I’m using thetruthas bait. There’s a difference,” I clarified.
“Not from where I’m standing. You’re playing a dangerous card. If this traitor you’re so particular about decides eliminating you is easier than containing the damage—”
“Then you’ll protect me. That’s the arrangement, isn’t it?”
“The arrangement was information in exchange for time. Not a suicide mission.”
“Everything worth doing is dangerous.” I heard the edge in my voice, sharper than intended. “Staying silent is dangerous. Running is dangerous. Fighting back is dangerous. At least this way, I choose the terms of engagement.”
I pulled his jacket tighter around my shoulders, acutely aware of how little I wore beneath it. The silk robe was elegant but thin, designed for luxury rather than warmth or modesty. Damian’s gaze tracked the movement, his jaw tightening before he deliberately looked away.
“Alright,” he conceded. “I’ll inform my brothers.”
“Okay, then,” I uttered, an unwanted feeling rising in my chest at the thought of the conversation coming to an end already.
He nodded twice, still not turning around.
“If you had to choose between the Bratva and the truth, what would you do?” I inquired, realizing it was a question I shouldn’t have asked.
Of all the things I could ask him.
What the hell was I thinking?
Damian didn’t answer the question. But his silence was louder than any confession.
As he left the room, I realized something crucial: He was already choosing me—just that he didn’t know it yet.
And if the Bratva burns, Damian Lobanov will be standing beside me, not against me.
Chapter Six
Damian’s POV
I watched from a safe distance as flames consumed what should have been three million in heroin and synthetic opioids, the kind of product that moved through shell companies and legitimate fronts without leaving fingerprints.
The same shell companies that Elena's lawsuit was systematically exposing.
"Confirmation?" I asked into the comm unit, my breath fogging in the cold.
Yuri's voice crackled back, steady despite the chaos. "Building's clear. No casualties on our side. They evacuated before we arrived."
Of course, they had. Someone had warned them. Someone inside our organization was feeding information to rivals, and Elena's lawsuit was forcing them to become increasingly obvious about it.
"Pull back," I ordered. "Leave the burn. Let them explain the loss to their suppliers."
I disconnected before Yuri could respond, watching chemical flames paint the warehouse district in shades of orange and red. The message was clear enough: the Bratva was aware, mobilized, and closing ranks. We weren't hiding; we were hunting.
But even as our forces demonstrated outward dominance, I knew the truth that kept me awake most nights: we were more exposed than we'd been in decades. Elena's lawsuit had cracked open our infrastructure like a geode, revealing the rot inside our legitimate shell. Every filing created pressure. Every disclosure narrowed the traitor's options.
The lawsuit had just crossed its first real threshold.
