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There is something in his tone that makes me glance at him. “What?”

“You’ve noticed more than most people would.”

“It’s not exactly subtle, Viktor.”

“No,” he says. “It isn’t.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Downstairs, I can hear Anya laughing at something, probably something Viktor told her earlier, because no one else in this house seems committed to nonsense as a public service.

I look back at Sofia. “Did she know what she was marrying into?”

“Yes and no.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only honest one.” He rests his shoulder against the wall, glass held loosely in one hand. “She knew Nikolai was powerful. She knew the family had enemies. She knew there were things people didn’t say out loud in polite rooms.”

“But she didn’t know everything.”

“No one knows everything at the beginning.”

That sits between us for a moment. I don’t like how easily I understand it.

I came here knowing this house was strange. I saw the guards. I saw the guns. I searched Nikolai’s name and read enough to know his business empire was not the whole story. Still, somehow, I let the comfortable bed, the warm food, Anya’s trust, and even Nikolai himself make the danger feel less immediate.

“What exactly is the whole story?” I ask.

Viktor’s expression shifts, just enough that I know he heard the real question under it. “What did you find online?”

“Enough.”

“That’s not an answer either.”

“It’s the only honest one,” I say, throwing his own words back at him.

His mouth curves slightly.

I lower my voice. “The articles mention organized crime.”

He doesn’t look surprised. That’s answer enough, but I wait anyway. “Some of those articles are exaggerated,” he says.

“And some?”

“Some are cautious because the writers enjoy being alive.”

My stomach tightens. “That was supposed to be a joke?”

“Not really.”

I stare at him.

Viktor sighs and looks down into his glass. “Nikolai runs legitimate businesses. Logistics, shipping, construction, investment, security. Those are real companies, real employees, real contracts.”

“But?”

“But the Volkov name existed before any of that had letterheads and tax filings,” he says. “Even before my grandfather set foot here in the States.”

That’s exactly what a Russian mob boss would say.