Page 77 of Shatter Me

"We'll reconvene in an hour," I say, my tone brooking no argument. "Marcus, Katya—good work. Keep the regular operations flowing."

They gather their papers and leave without question. That's why I keep them around—they know when to push and when to disappear.

Viktor stays seated, his scarred hands folded on the table. Nikolai hasn't moved either. The three of us share a look that speaks volumes about the weight of our discussion.

The Lebedev situation isn't just business—it's personal. It's about family honor, about power structures that have existed for generations. Marcus and Katya might be loyal to their paychecks, but they don't understand the deeper currents of Bratva politics. They don't need to know how Erik's growing attachment to Katarina Lebedev could reshape alliances that have stood for decades.

"Now," I say once the door clicks shut, "about Igor Lebedev..."

I lean back in my seat, studying my brother's face. Nikolai has always been the most levelheaded of us, who can see ten moves ahead while I'm still caught up in the immediate battle.

"We need to end this before it spirals," Nikolai says, his steel-gray eyes fixed on me. "Igor Lebedev is a rabid dog, but even he must see the futility of prolonging this conflict."

Viktor shifts in his seat. "The old bastard won't negotiate while we have his daughter."

"That's precisely why we need to use her as leverage now," Nikolai counters. "Before more of our men end up dead. Before civilian casualties draw unwanted attention."

He's right. The thought settles like lead in my stomach. Every day this drags on, Natasha is at greater risk. And Erik... my brother's growing attachment to Katarina complicates everything.

"What are you suggesting?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Let me handle the negotiations." Nikolai's voice carries the weight of authority he rarely exercises with me. "I'll arrange a meeting. Neutral ground. We discuss terms for Katarina's return and a ceasefire."

"And if Igor doesn't play ball?" Viktor's scarred hands clench on the table.

"Then, at least we tried the diplomatic route first." Nikolai meets my gaze. "Brother, we both know this needs to end. For all our sakes."

I nod slowly. "Set it up. But choose the location carefully. I want every advantage if this goes sideways."

"Already have a place in mind." Nikolai pulls out his phone. "I'll make the call."

I keep my expression neutral, but relief floods through me at Nikolai's words. An end to this war means Tash will be safer. The thought of her getting caught in the crossfire has eaten at me more than I care to admit.

"The sooner, the better," I say, my tone measured and professional. Viktor's presence reminds me to maintain the facade of the ruthless CEO he's known for years. "What timeline are we looking at?"

Nikolai checks his phone. "We can have everything arranged within forty-eight hours."

I give a sharp nod, deferring to his authority.

"The usual security protocols?" I ask, though I already know the answer. I ask this calculated question to show Viktor I'm focused on business, not personal matters.

"Double them," Nikolai orders. "We can't afford any surprises."

I recline in my chair, projecting an air of calm control even as hope stirs in my chest. The end of this conflict would mean one less threat to worry about, one less reason to post guards outside Tash's apartment.

But I keep these thoughts carefully hidden behind my practiced mask of indifference. Viktor has served our family loyally for years, but there are some vulnerabilities leaders can't afford to show.

30

TASH

The sharp knock startles me from my thoughts. I glance at my phone, noting that it’s six thirty p.m. No messages from Dmitri. Strange, he’s never early, and he always texts first.

I smooth down my silk blouse and cross to the door, my heels clicking against the hardwood. The familiar warmth of anticipation floods my chest as I reach for the handle.

The door swings open. My smile dies.

Black masks. Three men. Guns.

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