"Done?"
"Clean."
"Gotta hand it to you mob guys—efficient." She grabbed another champagne, that signature smile—tinged with mischief—back on her lips. "Guess these three days in hell weren't wasted. At least now I'm comfortable at a 'mob shootout scene.'"
I watched her profile, illuminated by light, heartbreakingly beautiful. After a moment of silence, I said quietly, "You did good tonight."
She turned her head. In that instant, the light in her eyes wasn't just playing the fiancée role anymore—it carried a candor that made my chest tighten.
"Well, duh. How else do I qualify as the leading lady in your 'show of the year?'"
This woman was born for chaos.
Back at the estate,I went straight to the study.
Sasha followed and closed the door.
"Marchetti had the nerve to reach into my gala. They pay." I sat behind the desk, fingers tapping. "Dig into their most critical auto parts supply chain. Before sunrise, I want three production lines shut down."
"Yes, Pakhan." Sasha acknowledged.
I didn't dismiss him immediately.
"Sasha. What do you make of tonight?" I asked, apropos of nothing.
Sasha understood me. He paused, chose his words. "Ms. Cole has talent, boss. Not just instinct. Her grasp of power and danger is sharper than most family core members. If... we could get her to assist us, she might become a card no one sees coming for Volkov."
Use her?
The thought spun through my head, then I rejected it with disgust.
"Using a woman as leverage isn't my style." I frowned, voice tight with irritation.
"Then ask her opinion?" Sasha offered another angle, tone still calm. "What if she doesn't mind? What if she sees it as 'mutual assistance'? A contract. We could draft an equal agreement—one that favors her."
"No."
The word came faster than I expected, edged with emotion I hadn't caught in time.
Sasha didn't let the refusal stop him. He paused a beat and continued. "Pakhan, that scout tonight—if she hadn't spotted him, our window would've closed four minutes later. Four minutes. At that venue, a lot can happen in four minutes."
"I know."
"She has the ability."
"I said no," I repeated, stood, walked to the window, back to Sasha. "She's a civilian. She came here to help me handle those old bastards, not run intelligence ops. If that scout's goal tonight wasn't reconnaissance but direct action, and she was standing in that restroom corridor—what would've happened?"
"But Pakhan—"
"She doesn't know the rules on this line. She doesn't have the skills to escape when danger hits." I turned and looked at Sasha. "You want me to put someone who knows nothing near this, then tell me it's resource integration?"
Sasha went quiet. Longer than before.
Outside, the Potomac's current was carried by night wind—low, constant, like something in this estate that never stopped running.
"Pakhan," Sasha finally spoke, slower than before. "You're right. She doesn't know anything now." He paused. "But that's not a reason she should never know."
I didn't speak.
