Page 24 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
The offer hung between them like a challenge, loaded with implications that made her pulse race. This was what she’d been hoping for, what she’d been working toward since the moment she’d decided to stay. Access to information that could change everything.
So why did the look in Matvei’s eyes make her feel like she was about to jump off a cliff?
“Show me what?” she asked, proud that her voice remained steady.
“Everything,” he said, and there was something almost reckless in his expression now, as if he’d decided to throw caution to the wind. “You want to know how this family operates? You want to understand what we do, how we survive,and why every decision matters? I’ll take you to one of our operations tomorrow.”
The promise sent a thrill of excitement through her that was tinged with genuine fear. This was what she’d wanted, but now that it was being offered, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to cross a line she couldn’t uncross.
“Okay,” she said, lifting her chin with determined defiance. “Show me.”
Matvei studied her face for a long moment, and she had the unsettling feeling that he could see straight through to her real motivations. Then he smiled, slow and dangerous and absolutely devastating.
“Be ready at eight,” he said. “And Irina? Once you see how this world really works, you can’t unsee it. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
She thought about Kostya’s voice on the phone, about the disappointment in her brothers’ faces every time she’d failed to live up to their expectations, about the years of being treated like a beautiful decoration rather than a valuable contributor.
“I’ve been ready my whole life,” she said.
And as Matvei’s smile widened, she realized with a mixture of terror and exhilaration that she might actually mean it.
Chapter 10 - Matvei
The morning sun caught the copper pipes of the distillery like burnished gold, casting everything in warm, honeyed light that made the whole operation look almost romantic. Almost. If you could ignore the armed guards positioned at strategic intervals and the very real possibility that one wrong move could result in federal raids, prison sentences, or worse.
Matvei watched from the catwalk as Irina moved through the facility below, her dark hair catching the light as she bent over a clipboard, asking questions with the kind of focused intensity he’d only seen her display when she was truly engaged. It had been three days since he’d first brought her here, three days of watching her transform from the restless, caged woman pacing his marble floors into something vibrant and alive.
“The filtration system is inefficient,” she was saying to Pavel, his operations manager, her voice carrying clearly in the high-ceilinged space. “You’re losing at least fifteen percent of your yield because the temperature regulation isn’t consistent. If you adjusted the cooling coils and added a secondary filtration stage here.“ She gestured to a section of piping with the confidence of someone who’d clearly done her homework.
Pavel, a man who’d been running distilleries since before Irina was born, was nodding along like she was revealing the secrets of the universe. Which, Matvei supposed, she might be. The suggestions she’d made at their first stop had increased production by twelve percent. The security recommendations at the second had identified three potential vulnerabilities that they hadn’t even realized existed.
She was brilliant. That much had become increasingly clear with each operation they’d visited. But more than that,she was genuinely excited about being here, about contributing something meaningful instead of being treated like delicate porcelain that might shatter if handled too roughly.
The sight of her like this, confident, engaged, practically glowing with purpose, did something to his chest that he wasn’t prepared to examine too closely.
“She’s got good instincts,” Simon said, appearing beside him on the catwalk with the silent grace that made him such an effective enforcer. “Better than good, actually. Pavel’s been trying to solve that filtration problem for months.”
“I know.” Matvei kept his voice carefully neutral, though something warm and possessive was spreading through his ribcage at the pride in his brother’s tone.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Simon leaned against the railing, his dark eyes fixed on the scene below. “She’s not just playing house. She’s actually making herself useful.”
The words should have been reassuring. After all, a useful Irina was exactly what he’d been hoping for when he’d first agreed to this plan. A Nikolai insider who could provide intelligence, identify weaknesses, and maybe even turn some of their operations to his advantage.
So why did the thought of using her discoveries against her family make his stomach turn?
“Matvei.” Simon’s voice was quieter now, more serious. “She’s getting under your skin.”
It wasn’t a question, and Matvei didn’t bother denying it. Simon had always been able to read him better than anyone except Anka, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.
“It’s complicated,” he said finally.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Simon straightened, his expression hardening into the ruthless mask he wore when business needed to be handled. “She’s a means to an end. Use her, get what you need, and move on. Don’t let sentiment cloud your judgment.”
Below them, Irina had moved on to examining the bottling equipment, her animated discussion with Pavel punctuated by gestures that were both elegant and precise. She looked like she belonged here, like she’d been born to this world of controlled chaos and calculated risks.
The thought hit him like a physical blow. She did belong here. Not as a prisoner or a pawn, but as a partner. Someone who could stand beside him and make everything better, stronger, more efficient.
The realization terrified him.
