Page 36 of Cruel Obsession

“Why? He’s the reason I didn’t put a bullet in your head the moment you walked out on my daughter.” He circles my desk, invading my space in a way that makes my trigger finger itch. His hand reaches out, picks up the silver frame on my desk—the only photo I keep of my family intact. Before Mishka. Before I destroyed everything.

I tense, fighting the urge to snatch it back.

“Gavriil and I had an arrangement. Our families would merge. The territories would stabilize. The distribution problem would be solved.” He taps the glass over my father’s face. “Sucha shame your brother died. Mishka was always the obedient one, wasn’t he?”

The mention of Mishka’s name in his mouth makes something dark and ugly rise within me. I can almost feel the Makarov’s weight in my palm, hear the echo of that fatal shot from fifteen years ago.

“Sounds like your problem, not mine,” I say, voice flat despite the storm raging beneath the surface.

His face twists. “Your problem is that you think you can operate outside the Bratva while using its protection. Empire Royale sits on Laurov territory, but it’s your personal property.” He leans in, close enough that I smell the garlic on his breath. “That ends now.”

I rise slowly from my chair, standing to my full height. I have three inches on him, but he doesn’t back down.

“My father doesn’t control my businesses,” I say evenly. “And neither do you.”

“Your father is losing his grip,” Sergei hisses, voice dropping to ensure his men can’t hear. “The other families are questioning his judgment. First, he lets his son sabotage a major trafficking operation. Then he fails to bring you in line for this marriage. The Georgians smell weakness from a hundred miles.”

The mention of the trafficking operation sets my blood boiling. He knows. Of course he fucking knows about Operation Blackout.

“I’m not giving you my casino,” I say. “Not now. Not ever.”

“Then I’ll take it.” His smile is all teeth. “Either through your father, or through other means.”

“Threats, Sergei? Really?”

“Not threats. Facts.” He adjusts his cufflinks—gold, gaudy, engraved with the Tulikov family crest. “I’ve already spoken with the gaming commission. Interesting howpaperwork can go missing when the right people are paid.” He sets the photo down, deliberately crooked. “And let’s not forget how profitable it could be if Rosanna’s child is proven to be a Laurov. Child support from a man of your means would be… substantial.”

My jaw tightens. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Tulikov.”

“It’s only dangerous for those who don’t understand the rules.” He glances around my office, eyes landing on the family photo he just disturbed. “You never did understand the rules, Arkady. Always thinking you’re above them. Above us.”

“There are some lines I won’t cross,” I say. “Trafficking children is one of them.”

His laugh is dismissive. “Such moral high ground from a man with blood on his hands. Tell me, how many men have you killed? How many families have you destroyed while telling yourself you’re better than your father?”

The question isn’t one I can answer. Because he’s right. I am a killer. A monster wearing an expensive suit. The only difference is I’ve drawn my own lines in the sand—lines I won’t cross, no matter what.

“Get out,” I say, my voice deadly quiet.

“Not until we have an agreement.”

“There is no agreement. Empire Royale is mine.”

“Nothing is yours, Arkady,” he sneers. “Everything you have exists because the Bratva allows it. Your businesses. Your properties.” His gaze turns venomous. “Everything you’ve worked for.”

Ice floods my veins. My vision narrows to a pinpoint, the edges going black. For a split second, I see Sergei’s body broken on the floor, see myself standing over him, hands slick with his blood.

My control splinters.

In one fluid motion, I grab him by the throat, shoving him back against the wall hard enough to rattle the bookshelves. His security move toward us, but I’ve already pressed my thumb against his carotid, cutting off the blood flow to his brain.

“Listen carefully, you old piece of shit,” I growl, squeezing just enough to make his eyes bulge. “You don’t touch what’s mine without consequences. You don’t threaten what’s mine without consequences. You don’t evenlookat what’s mine without consequences.” I release him just before he passes out, watching him slump against the wall, gasping. “Empire Royale is off-limits.”

Sergei’s men have their hands inside their jackets, but they haven’t drawn. Smart. They know none of them wouldn’t make it out of this room alive if they did.

“Pizda!You’ll regret this,” Sergei wheezes, clutching his throat where my fingers left red marks. “This isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is.” I straighten my cuffs, voice dropping to something colder. More final. “You came here to threaten me. That was your final mistake.” I step back, giving him space to straighten, to gather what’s left of his dignity. “Now get the fuck out of my office before I forget our families ever did business together.”