Page 38 of Dark King Daddy

His father’s blood marked both knees of his trousers.

“The murders happened inside a Sokolov building.”

Arkady took one step toward him. “Choose your next words carefully.”

“My father came here under your protection.”

“Your men—”

“They killed our fathers together because they want us to kill each other separately.”

Ksenia’s voice cut through both men.

She stood slowly. Blood covered her hands and the front of her green dress. Her face had gone pale. Tears stood in her eyes but had not fallen.

She looked at Arkady first.

Then Anton.

“The garage failed,” she said. “So they did this. One Sokolov guard shot by an attacker dressed as staff. Both fathers killed by a trusted waiter. A rear passage left open. Every detail gives us someone else to blame.”

Arkady’s chest rose and fell.

Anton stared at her.

She turned to me.

I was still kneeling beside Lev.

Pakhan.

The word had changed the room before anyone else understood it.

My father’s authority no longer existed. It had not dispersed. In our world, power did not tolerate emptiness.

It had moved to me.

I rose.

Blood slicked my palms. My shirt cuffs were red. Every face in the room turned toward me.

Grief could come later.

If I allowed it now, men would die before midnight.

“Seal Volna,” I said.

My voice sounded unchanged.

That was useful.

“No one leaves. Restaurant, baths, kitchen, offices. Every exit is locked and guarded.”

One of our men reached for his phone.

“Collect every phone in the building,” I continued. “Guests, staff, family. No calls except through Nikita.”

Nikita nodded. No joke. No smile.