Page 1 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
Chapter 1 - Irina
The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor echoed through the empty hallway like gunshots in the silence. Irina Nikolai had perfected the art of walking with purpose, even when she had absolutely nowhere important to go. It was all about the image, the presence, the way people stepped aside when they saw her coming. Being a Nikolai meant something in this city, and she’d learned early that if you didn’t command respect, you became a target.
She paused outside her brother Ilya’s office, pressing her ear to the heavy oak door. Voices drifted through, muffled but urgent. Her brothers were discussing something big again, something they’d inevitably try to keep from her because she was “too young” or “too precious” or whatever bullshit excuse they’d come up with this time. At twenty-four, she was hardly a child, but try convincing four overprotective brothers of that.
“The shipment from Moscow is compromised,” Kostya’s voice filtered through the wood. “We need to move fast before they trace it back to us.”
Irina’s pulse quickened. This was exactly the kind of information she needed to stay relevant, to prove she belonged in their world instead of being treated like some delicate flower they needed to shield from reality. She pulled out her phone, quickly typing notes as she listened.
“What about the warehouse on Fifth?” That was Viktor, always the strategist.
“Too exposed. Fedya suggested the docks, but I don’t like them.”
She was so focused on capturing every word that she almost missed the footsteps approaching from behind. Almost.Years of living in a house full of paranoid criminals had taught her to always be aware of her surroundings, even when she was breaking the rules.
“Having fun, little sister?”
Irina spun around, her heart hammering as she faced Fedya. Of all her brothers to catch her eavesdropping, it had to be the one who looked at her like she was made of spun glass and dynamite in equal measure. His pale blue eyes held that familiar mixture of exasperation and reluctant fondness that she’d grown accustomed to over the years.
“I was just…”
“Spying on a private conversation?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that dangerous whisper he used when he was trying not to lose his temper. “You know better than this, Irina.”
She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “I know better than to let my brothers make decisions about our family business without me. This affects me too, Fedya. Everything you do affects me.”
“Which is exactly why we keep you out of it.” The door opened behind her, and suddenly she was surrounded by all four of them. Ilya looked annoyed, Kostya seemed amused, and Viktor just looked tired. “The less you know, the safer you are.”
“Safe.” The word tasted bitter on her tongue. “I’m so fucking tired of being safe. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be treated like a liability in your own family?”
“You’re not a liability,” Ilya said, but his voice held that patronizing tone that made her want to scream. “You’re our responsibility.”
“I didn’t ask to be anyone’s responsibility.” The frustration that had been building for years finally bubbled over. “I asked to be an equal member of this family, but you treat me like I’m some helpless little girl who can’t handle the truth about what we do.”
Kostya laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “You want to know what we do, Ira? We kill people. We break bones and ruin lives and sleep with blood on our hands. Is that really what you want for yourself?”
“It’s what I was born into,” she shot back. “You don’t get to make that choice for me.”
“Actually, we do.” Viktor’s quiet voice cut through the tension like a blade. “As long as you live under this roof, as long as you carry our name, we absolutely get to make that choice. And we choose to keep you alive.”
The worst part was that she understood their logic. She really did. The Nikolai name came with a target painted on her back, and being the only daughter made that target even bigger. But understanding their motives didn’t make their suffocating protection any easier to bear.
“I’m not asking you to put me on the front lines,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “I’m asking you to stop treating me like I’m invisible. Let me help with the business side, the logistics, the planning. I’m good at that stuff, and you know it.”
“The answer is no.” Ilya’s tone suggested the conversation was over. “End of discussion.”
But Irina had never been good at accepting defeat, especially not when it came to something this important. “Fine. Have your little boys’ club. But don’t expect me to sit in my roomlike a good little princess while you make decisions that could get us all killed.”
She turned to leave, but Fedya caught her arm. His grip was gentle but firm, and when she looked up at him, she saw something that might have been regret in his cold blue eyes.
“We’re not trying to punish you, Ira. We’re trying to protect you.”
“I know.” She pulled free of his grasp. “But maybe it’s time you realized that I don’t need protecting as much as I need trusting.”
The conversation followed her as she stalked down the hallway toward her room. She could hear them talking in low voices, probably discussing whether they needed to increase security or limit her movements even more. The thought made her stomach twist with a mixture of anger and claustrophobia.
Her bedroom was a sanctuary of sorts, decorated in shades of black and silver that reflected her mood more often than not. She threw herself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to process the familiar cocktail of frustration and helplessness that seemed to define her relationship with her brothers.
They meant well. She knew that. In their twisted, violent world, love looked like armed guards and bulletproof cars, and never being allowed to go anywhere alone. But knowing their intentions didn’t make their methods any less suffocating.
