Page 117 of Feral King

“She used my name to undermine your council and tried to take you out of the picture. She is… ambitious. I’ll give her that.”

“She’s a goddamn psycho,” Orlov says. “Killed half our syndicate heads.”

“And for that, you have my apologies. I was en route during this awful business, otherwise I would’ve intervened in a more significant way.” He leans forward. “But what is the expression you Americans have? ‘If you come for the king, you’d better not miss.’”

Orlov snorts. “That applies to two men in this room.”

“Mr. Volkov, in case it’s not abundantly clear, I signed our agreement withyou. Not with your brother. Not with Dobrov. And Mrs. Lee has no say in this matter. I will deal with her personally and at length. Once this business is sorted out, we will return to the finalization of the routes. Do not worry, gentlemen, there is a large pot of gold waiting at the end of this for each of us.”

“Good to hear,” Baranov says. “But right now, I’d just like to have my family in New York without worrying whether or not something is going to happen to them.”

“We have mutual concerns,” Yang says. “Lee and Alexander are working together. And until they are stopped, no business can be conducted and no safety can be guaranteed.”

“They’re going to try to consolidate,” I say. “Take advantage of the chaos and temporary vacuum to solidify their position. And if they can get to any of us?—”

“Then let us not allow things to get that far,” Yang says, cutting in. “I propose a joint operation—Russian and Chinese resources coordinated. We locate Lee and Alexander, dismantle their network, and handle them as we see fit. Then your council can reconvene and I purge my organization of troublemakers. Clean and simple.”

“We remove the cancer before it has a chance to metastasize,” I say. “Alexander is an idiot and Lee is overextended. There’s no reason for this to drag out. They made their move, and now it’s time for us to make ours.”

Yang turns his attention to me. “I understand that Alexander has your woman.”

I grit my teeth. The mention of Lyra incites a rage inside me that I can barely control.

“I assume he does.”

“Then let us not keep her waiting.”

My phone rings. The room goes silent as every eye turns to me.

The screen shows that it’s Alexander calling. I pick up but don’t say a word.

“Julian. We need to talk.”

He sounds wired—tight and manic—like he’s high on adrenaline.

“Where is Lyra?”

“She’s safe—for now. Comfortable, even. Sophia’s keeping her company.”

The rage that moves through me is white-hot.

“What do you want, Alexander?”

“New terms. You step down, and you do it publicly. You sign over both the company and the syndicate to me. You dissolve your claims with Yang, and you disappear. Take your money. Take whatever you want. But the company, the council seat, and the Bratva—they’re mine.”

“And Lyra?”

“Lyra walks free the moment you sign. She and the baby, unharmed. You have my word.”

“Your word?” The word of a man who lied to my face in order to distract me, and then he tried to put a bullet in my head. His word means nothing. But the only thing that matters right now is making sure Lyra is safe.

“I’ll need to meet in person,” I tell him, my tone calm and measured, “to discuss the details.”

“I’ll send the coordinates.”

“Do that.”

I hang up and set the phone on the table, then look at Yang.