Page 67 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
Matvei found his voice, the words coming easier now that the defensive anger had faded. “Someone’s been playing our families against each other. The attacks on both our operations, the timing, the evidence pointing to each other... It’s all been orchestrated.”
As he laid out their suspicions about the rival, Viktor’s expression grew increasingly grim. By the time Matvei finished explaining their theory, the other man was leaning back in his chair, a considering look in his eyes.
“That does explain some inconsistencies we noticed,” Viktor admitted grudgingly. “The attack methods weren’t quite our style, and the timing seemed off.”
“We need to work together to prove it,” Irina said. “And to stop him before he escalates things further.”
Viktor was quiet for several minutes, clearly weighing their words against his own observations. Finally, he looked directly at Matvei. “If you’re lying to me, if this is some elaborate setup to get closer to our operations, I will personally make sure you regret it for the rest of your very short life.”
“I’m not lying,” Matvei said simply. “I love your sister. I want to build a life with her and our child. That’s not possible if our families are at war.”
“And if I help you with this, what guarantee do I have that you won’t just find another reason to come after us later?”
Matvei thought about that, about the question beneath the question. What Viktor was really asking was whether Matvei could be trusted, whether he was the kind of man who deserved Irina’s faith.
“You have my word,” he said finally. “But more than that, you have hers.” He squeezed Irina’s hand. “She believes in me enough to carry my child and defend me to her family. I won’t betray that trust.”
Viktor studied him for another long moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. Let’s figure out how to catch this bastard.”
As they began discussing strategy, Matvei found himself watching Irina out of the corner of his eye. The way she’d fought for him, defended him, believed in him even when he’d given her every reason not to... it was staggering. This brilliant, fierce woman had chosen him, was carrying his child, and had put her relationship with her family on the line to protect what they’d built together.
The realization hit him like a freight train: he wasn’t just in love with her. He was completely, irrevocably, desperately in love with her. And he would do whatever it took, fight whoeverhe had to fight, sacrifice whatever was necessary to make sure he never lost her.
Looking at her now, animated as she contributed ideas to their planning, he made a silent promise. Whatever came next, however this war ended, he would spend the rest of his life proving himself worthy of the faith she’d shown in him tonight.
Chapter 23 - Irina
The gala was everything Irina had expected from a high-society event designed to launder criminal money through charitable donations. Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across marble floors, while men in thousand-dollar suits and women dripping in diamonds moved through the ballroom like predators in designer clothing. The Volkov and Nikolai families had arrived separately, maintaining the facade of rivalry while coordinating their real purpose for the evening.
Irina smoothed her hands over the midnight blue silk of her gown, the fabric clinging to curves that were still subtle but definitely there. Three months pregnant, and already her body was changing in ways that made her hyperaware of the life growing inside her. The knowledge that she was carrying Matvei’s child while preparing to potentially put herself in danger made her stomach twist with nerves that had nothing to do with morning sickness.
“You don’t have to do this,” Matvei had whispered against her ear in the car, his hand protective on her thigh. “We can find another way.”
But they couldn’t, and they both knew it. Viktor had confirmed that their target, Dimitri Kozlov, would be here tonight. The man who had orchestrated the attacks on both families, who had kidnapped her and sold her at that auction, who was still pulling strings from the shadows. This was their best chance to get close enough to make him confess, and Irina was the only one who could do it without raising immediate suspicion.
Now, standing in the opulent ballroom with a champagne flute of sparkling water in her hand, she felt the weight ofeveryone’s expectations pressing down on her shoulders. Her brothers were scattered throughout the room, trying to look casual while keeping her in their sights. Matvei’s family had taken up strategic positions as well, and she could feel the tension radiating from all of them like heat waves.
She caught Matvei’s gaze from across the room, where he stood with Simon and Adrian, looking devastatingly handsome in his black tuxedo. Those golden brown eyes found hers, and in them she saw everything she needed: love, trust, unwavering support. He believed in her ability to pull this off, and that faith settled the worst of her nerves.
A slight nod from Viktor near the bar told her that Kozlov had arrived. She spotted him almost immediately, a man in his fifties with silver hair and cold gray eyes, surrounded by a small entourage of men who were clearly more muscle than manners. He looked exactly like what he was: a predator dressed up in expensive clothes.
Irina took a steadying breath and began moving through the crowd, timing her approach carefully. She needed to make contact seem accidental, natural. A collision near the dessert table would work perfectly.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed as she deliberately bumped into Kozlov, her water splashing slightly onto his sleeve. “How clumsy of me.”
“No harm done,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. His eyes raked over her in a way that made her skin crawl, but she forced herself to smile prettily.
“You’re very kind. I’m Irina Volkov,” she said, extending her hand with practiced grace. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Dimitri Kozlov.” He lifted her hand to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture that felt more threatening than gallant. “Volkov, you said? Related to Matvei?”
“His wife, unfortunately.” She let just a hint of bitterness creep into her voice, playing the role of the unhappy bride. “Though I suppose I should be grateful. Marriage to a Bratva leader does have certain... protections.”
Interest flickered in Kozlov’s cold eyes. “Protections from what, my dear?”
“Oh, you know how it is in our world. So much violence lately. All these attacks on different families’ operations.” She sighed dramatically, watching his face carefully. “Though I have to say, whoever’s been orchestrating them certainly knows what they’re doing. Very clean work.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Kozlov said, but she caught the slight tension around his eyes.
