Page 71 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

“Ready,” she replies, and even with the steel in her voice, I catch the tremor tucked beneath it.

I reach for her hand. We step into the morning together—two people carrying more secrets than trust but still moving forward. For now, that’s enough.

And if it’s not?

We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.

Chapter 21

Inheritance of Violence

Galina

When Detective Rong corners me, I’m not surprised. The storage room is buried at the edge of the club’s back corridor, past the kitchens and behind a heavy door marked “Deliveries Only.” A forgotten space where sound barely filters through, and where the cameras sometimes glitch from moisture damage. It’s used mostly for costume overflow and outdated supplies, which is exactly why I came here. And exactly why she did, too.

We knew the police would come. I’d kept busy with fashion show prep, stacking distractions like armor. But it gave her the perfect opportunity to catch me alone. What does surprise me is her expression. Gone is the mask of concern she wore during our previous conversations. Her eyes are all calculation now—sharp, cold, hunting. She’s here for something. And whatever it is, she’s not walking out without it.

“We need to talk,” she says, positioning herself between me and the door.

I set down the box of sequined gowns I’d been sorting, careful to school my face. “I’ve already told you everything I know.”

“No,” she counters, stepping forward. Her badge glints under the fluorescent lights. “You haven’t. You know Vladimir wants the club. But it’s more than that. He wants revenge—on the Volkovs, the Sokolovs, anyone who’s ever humiliated your family.”

The walls feel closer than they should. I fight the instinct to cover my stomach. That’s what she’s circling. I can feel it.

“I don’t care about my uncle’s vendetta,” I say coolly. “It’s not mine anymore.”

Her voice lowers, almost gentle. “You should care. Because when Vladimir finds out you’re carrying Volkov’s baby, you’ll be his first target.”

I freeze. Just for a second. But she sees it.

“How did you?—”

“I have eyes everywhere, Galina.” She pulls out her phone and flicks through photos—me leaving appointments, picking up prenatal vitamins, a hand resting on my stomach like it’s instinct. “The question is, does Vladimir know yet?”

I thought Matvei would’ve told him. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’s saving the reveal for something worse. A move that doesn’t need permission.

“What do you want?” I ask, even though I already know. This is what I’ve been waiting for—the drop of the mask.

“The same thing you do.” She slips her phone back into her pocket. “To destroy the men who destroyed our families.”

Her words are too smooth, too rehearsed. Like they’ve been tailored to fit my deepest wounds.

“Our families?” I echo, suspicious.

A bitter smile curls her lips. “You think I started looking into the Volkovs and Sokolovs by chance? My father was the first investigator on their case. They killed him for it. Vladimir reached out months ago. Promised he’d help me finish what my father started.”

“Do you know who pulled the trigger?” I ask.

“No,” she says, locking eyes with me. “But someone will talk. And when they do, I’ll make sure they pay.”

I fold my arms across my chest, trying to look unimpressed. But my brain won’t stop spinning. Vasiliy never mentioned anything about Rong or her family. Could he know? Is this all part of some elaborate game?

Before yesterday, I might’ve believed that. But not now. He’s brutal, yes, but he’s not reckless. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. And yet here I am. Protected. Held. Seen.

There’s a beast in Vasiliy, but there’s something else too. Something quieter. A kind of goodness he’s terrified to let anyone name.

“You’ve been working with my uncle this whole time,” I say, hand on my hip, voice low and deadly. “The investigation. The concern. The way you kept circling me. It was all a setup.”

---