Page 56 of Inevitable Endings
Aslanov did live up to the name. He was a storm in a man’s body, unpredictable and terrifying. Yet, even now, my heart flutters at the thought of him, that strange mixture of admiration and something deeper; something I still don’t quite understand, fear and longing.
I finally exhale, my voice quiet but steady. “He did... but that’s not why you’re here.”
I push Karpov’s expression aside, and I step closer as Ada lifts the lid, revealing stacks of old reports, handwritten notes, newspaper clippings, redacted documents, and photographs bound by paperclips. Some are yellowed with age, others crisp and recent.
Ada sifts through them until her fingers still.
A photograph.
Ada turns the photograph over in her hands, her expressionunreadable. The man in the picture is caught mid-step, his face slightly blurred, but the sharpness of his suit and the way he carries himself say enough. Not some street thug, someone with power. Someone who thought he was untouchable.
I glance at Karpov, waiting for an explanation. His expression is grim, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
“Roman Tsepov,” he says finally. “A businessman, at least on paper. In reality, he was a weapons broker for the Bratva. He wasn’t top-tier, not someone who called the shots, but he was an essential cog in their machine. An underboss who knew the right people and kept the wrong ones in check.”
The name itches at the back of my mind, familiar in a way that makes my stomach knot.
Then it hits me.
I exchange a glance with Ada, and she’s already thinking the same thing. I turn to Sawyer. “That name, Tsepov, he was in the files from the fire case.”
Sawyer straightens. “You’re right, he was.”
Karpov exhales sharply. “You’re connecting dots most people wouldn’t dare to.” He pulls a chair closer and sits, his coat shifting as he leans forward, forearms on his knees. “Tsepov made his fortune through weapons deals, but he was smart. He built a front and ran legitimate businesses to launder money. He still operates to this day. He is off age though, but a though one.”
I grip the edge of the table, my mind already moving ahead. “Do you know where we can find him?”
Karpov goes still, then slowly turns his head to look at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. His sharp blue eyes drill into mine, searching for any sign that I might be joking.
Ada exhales through her nose, shaking her head. “She’s serious, Karpov.” She smirks slightly. “She’s also insane. But we knew that.”
Karpov lets out a dry laugh, more of a scoff, and leans back inhis chair. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
I cross my arms. “Stopping isn’t an option.”
He exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You want Tsepov? Fine. But understand this, if you go knocking on his door, you better be damn sure you have a reason. A good one.” He leans forward, voice low. “You’re stepping into dangerous territory, he could be an opening to the higher ranks in the Bratva.”
My heart pounds faster, that’s exactly what we need. I need to reach Dominik.
Sawyer shifts beside me, arms crossed. “Isabella thrives in dangerous territories.”
Karpov studies us for another moment, then nods, as if resigning himself to the fact that we’re going to do this whether he warns us or not. “Roman Tsepov still operates out of New York. To the legal world, he’s nothing more than a businessman, the CEO of Eastport International Holdings.Offices in Midtown, 52nd Street. It’s a finance and logistics firm—clean on paper, but underneath?” He shakes his head. “It’s a front. Money laundering, offshore accounts, shell corporations. He will have connections, he will have some answers. Whether you’ll obtain them is another story.”
I file the information away, already picturing the building, the approach, the risks.
Karpov’s expression hardens. “If you walk in there, you’re not walking into some backroom poker game with street thugs. You’re walking into an empire built on blood and power. You don’t get a meeting with Tsepov unless he wants one. And if you piss him off? You disappear. Just because he has ties with the Bratva doesn’t mean he is loyal. There are lots of rats in the lower ranks of the organization. He is your opening, not your guy. From what Ada told me about what is going on, he is in a too low of a rank; this here has to do with a real power shift- high rankings.”
A beat of silence.
My focus locked on Karpov. “As the hunger games would state: may the odds be in our favor.”
Chapter 25
A Dangerous Beginning
Isabella
The door closes softly behind Karpov, and the clinic feels a little emptier now, as if the presence of someone who once knew the darkest corners of New York’s underworld has left a vacuum. The cold draft from the hallway lingers, stirring the stale air in the room, but there’s no more small talk. The weight of what Karpov said hangs heavily over us.
