Page 22 of Shatter Me

I slam my glass down. “I haven’t lost anything.”

“Prove it,” Erik says quietly. “Let me take a team. One night. We can end this before it begins.”

The temptation pulls at me. It would be clean and efficient, which is Erik’s specialty. But I think of the delicate balance we’ve achieved and the legitimate businesses we’ve built. Tomorrow is the museum board meeting, where Natasha will present her latest acquisition proposal.

“No,” I say finally. “We watch. We wait. But we prepare. Alexi, I want everything on their recent movements. Erik put your team on standby. If they make one wrong move...”

“They already have,” Erik mutters, but he nods.

Nikolai moves from the window, filling the room as he approaches my desk. The shift in his demeanor is subtle but unmistakable as he changes from advisor to leader.

“I understand your position, Dmitri.” His voice carries the weight of authority that made him head of our family. “The legitimate business, the careful balance we’ve built. But we can’t just sit and wait for the next move.”

I meet his steel-gray eyes. “You think I’m being too cautious.”

“I think you’re letting other interests cloud your judgment.” He places both hands on my desk, leaning forward. “The Lebedevs are watching. Every day we don’t respond; they see weakness. And weakness?—”

“Will get us all killed,” I finish, the familiar mantra bitter on my tongue.

“Three threats in a week isn’t testing waters anymore.” Nikolai straightens, adjusting his cufflinks. “It’s preparation. They’re measuring our response time, our willingness to act. Every hour we debate this is another hour they have to position themselves.”

The truth stings. I’ve built my reputation on calculated control, on being three steps ahead. But lately...

“Your museum project has merit,” Nikolai continues. “But if we lose our grip on the underground, all those legitimate channels won’t mean shit. The Lebedevs will tear it all down, piece by piece.”

Erik shifts against the wall, his combat-trained muscles coiled tight. Alexi’s typing has stopped, the room heavy with expectation.

“What do you suggest?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“We send a message.” Nikolai’s voice drops lower. “Not Erik’s surgical strike—not yet. But something that reminds them why the Ivanovs aren’t to be tested. Something that makes them question every move they’ve made this week.”

I lean back in my chair, a cold smile forming. “The Lebedev’s new shipping enterprise. The one they’ve spent the last year building.”

“Their crown jewel,” Alexi says, finally looking up from his screen. “Forty million in infrastructure alone.”

“Legitimate on paper.” I drum my fingers on my desk. “But we all know what really moves through those containers.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrow with understanding. “Their entire distribution network.”

“Exactly.” I pull up the satellite imagery on my tablet. “One strategic strike. Their ships catch fire in port. The insurance claim shows faulty wiring. Nothing traced back to us.”

“They lose months of preparation,” Erik adds, pushing off the wall. “And their suppliers start questioning their reliability.”

“More importantly,” I continue, “they lose face. The mighty Lebedevs, unable to protect their own investments, make their recent threats look hollow.”

Alexi’s fingers fly across his keyboard. “I can have their security protocols within the hour. Port authority schedules, guard rotations, everything.”

“No casualties,” I specify, meeting Erik’s gaze. “This isn’t about blood. It’s about showing them we can reach out and touch their most precious assets whenever we choose.”

“Clean. Precise. Untraceable.” Erik nods. “I’ll need three days to position everything.”

“Two,” I correct him. “The longer we wait, the more they’ll expect something.”

“Two days then.” Erik pulls out his phone, already coordinating with his team.

I turn to Nikolai. “Satisfied?”

“It’s a start.” He straightens his jacket. “But if they don’t get the message...”

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