Page 175 of The Bratva King

I sit at the head of the table, with Sergei to my right, Maksim to my left, and Pasha beside me. Andrei and Roman left town, dealing with issues in their own cities. We’re in the conference room at my casino. Across from us, Don Castellano and three of his men occupy their side like they’re sitting for a business meeting instead of negotiating the terms of their continued existence.

I haven’t slept. My body is running on pure adrenaline and the memory of Luke’s small body clutched against me. Kicking in the door of that room and finding Luke curled up in the corner on a dirty floor will haunt me for the rest of my days.

That memory is always followed by another. Gabby's face as I ran toward her with Luke in my arms. Terror giving way to relief.

My lioness.

“Let’s be clear about what happened,” Sergei says. “Your organization came into my brother’s territory. Kidnapped a child. Killed a federal agent. Attacked two women under Bratva protection.”

Don Castellano spreads his hands. “Matteo was acting alone here. The kidnapping and the attack on the women were not sanctioned by us.”

I lean forward. “And the federal agent?”

His expression hardens. “That came from New York.”

“I don’t give a fuck whether it came from Vegas or New York. Your people killed a federal agent because he was protecting Gabby.”

My jaw locks, and I plant both hands on the table as I lean in further. “And we’re done fucking with women and children. Your men have been sabotaging my property for months. The fire. The inspections. The delays. That ends too.”

“Nikolai.” Sergei’s voice is calm, but I hear the warning.

I force myself to sit back. My thumb and forefinger press together under the table.

“What my brother is saying,” Sergei’s tone returns to a dangerous calm, “is that we have reached a critical juncture. The Bratva has been patient. We’ve allowed certain... territorial disputes to resolve themselves through negotiation.”

He pauses, letting the silence stretch.

“That patience has ended.”

Castellano’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing.

“You have two choices,” Sergei says. “The first is simple. We establish clear boundaries. Your operations stay on your side. Ours stay on ours. No more interference. No more accidents. No more coincidences.”

One of them curses.

Sergei continues like there was no interruption. “The second option is equally simple. We destroy every operation you have. West Coast, East Coast, everything between. We burn it all down and salt the fucking earth.” His eyes don’t leave Castellano’s face. “Try me. Try my family. See what happens.”

I watch the don process this. He’s been in this life long enough to recognize a genuine threat. The full weight of the Sokolov empire isn’t something anyone survives.

Castellano looks at me. I see him weighing options. Coming to the only conclusion that keeps him breathing.

“Agreed.”

“Good.” Sergei stands, and the rest of us rise in unison. “You go your way; we go ours. If I have to come back to this fucking desert, I’ll kill you all slowly.”

Castellano sneers but knows when to shut up. His men file out behind him.

When the door closes, I exhale slowly.

“You handled that well,” Pasha says quietly.

“I wanted to kill him.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I’m proud of you,” Sergei says.

The words catch me off-guard.