Page 35 of Knot Happening

It was a delicate balance, this newfound pack dynamics.We were still getting to know each other, still learning to navigate the complexities of our shared bond with Darcy.There were bound to be conflicts, but I believed—no, I hoped—that we would be able to overcome them.

Pietro's gaze swept over us, a silent acknowledgment of the trust we were building."We have a common goal," he said, his voice firm and resolute."We protect Darcy, and we deal with anyone who threatens her or us."

Jin nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting the determination that I felt coursing through my own veins."I'm with you, Pietro," he said, his voice steady and sure."I'll do whatever it takes."

Axel clapped a hand on my shoulder, a gesture of solidarity that spoke volumes."We're in this together," he affirmed, his gaze meeting mine with unspoken understanding."All of us."

As we made our plans and prepared to move to Pietro's penthouse, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were on the cusp of something monumental.Our lives had irrevocably changed the moment we found Darcy, and there was no turning back now.

thirty-seven

PIETRO

The scentof Darcy's heat still lingered on my skin as I left the safe house and I could still feel her appreciative gaze as I walked out of the house without hiding her scent.But as I stepped back into the world of the Bratva, the sweetness of that connection had to be cloaked behind the iron mask of leadership.The streets of New York whispered of chaos, of Nikolai Ivanov's audacity to strike at the heart of my organization while I was...indisposed.

I convened a skhodka, a council of my most trusted Vor v Zakone, in the dimly lit back room of a Brooklyn restaurant that reeked of vodka and desperation.These men had earned their stars through blood and sacrifice, and their loyalty to me was unyielding.

"Brothers," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me, "Nikolai has grown bolder while I was away.Our operations have been compromised, our men questioned our strength."

Boris 'The Wolf' Petrov, a man whose name alone could silence a room, leaned forward, his eyes sharp."What happened, bratan?The streets are hungry for an explanation."

I clenched my jaw, the weight of my secrets pressing down on me."That is not your concern.What matters is our response."

"Da," agreed Alexei 'The Butcher' Kuznetsov, his massive frame hunched over the table."We must show them the steel in our spine."

Sergei 'The Serpent' Dragunov, the youngest among us but cunning as his namesake, chimed in."We strike back, hard and fast.Make them bleed for every insult they've hurled at us."

"Nyet," I countered, my mind racing with strategies."We do not act recklessly.We are not animals in a fight pit.We are precise, we are calculated."

The room fell silent, the men hanging on my every word."We will use Nikolai's boldness against him.He expects us to retaliate with force.Instead, we will cut the head off the snake."

"And how do you propose we do that, Pakhan?"The question came from Vasili, my right hand, his skepticism barely veiled.

I met his gaze, a plan forming in the back of my mind."We will draw him out.Make him think he has the upper hand.Then, when he is exposed, we strike."

"A risky move, Pietro," Vasili warned, his eyes narrowed."Nikolai is not a fool."

"Perhaps not," I conceded."But he is arrogant.And arrogance can be a man's downfall."

I could see the wheels turning in their heads, the acceptance of the plan taking root."We will need to be united.No infighting, no second-guessing.We move as one."

The Vor v Zakone exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them."For the Bratva," Ivan declared, his voice echoing in the room.

"For the Bratva," the others echoed, their fists pounding on the table in unison.

I nodded, a sense of resolve settling over me."Prepare your men.We will show Nikolai Ivanov that he has made a grave mistake in challenging us."

The council dispersed, each man leaving with a solemn nod and a promise of retribution.The restaurant's door creaked shut, leaving Vasili and me in the heavy silence of the back room.I poured myself a generous measure of vodka, the burn a welcome distraction from the tightness in my chest.

Vasili approached, his steps measured, his face a mask of stoicism."Pakhan," he addressed me formally, though we had shared more than a decade of battles and bloodshed."We need to discuss a delicate matter."

I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue."What is it, brat?"I asked, the term of brotherhood a thin veneer over the undercurrent of tension.

He hesitated, a rare crack in his usually unflappable demeanor."There is a serpent in our garden, Pietro.A traitor among us."

The word 'predatel' hung in the air between us, heavy with the threat of betrayal.I felt the old fury stir within me, a volatile mix of anger and hurt."Who?"I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.

Vasili's gaze didn't waver."I do not have a name.Not yet.But there have been whispers, and certain...irregularities in our operations that cannot be coincidental."

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