The drive was long and silent. Marina sat in the back of the van, wrists bound, eyes defiant. Every few miles she would smirk, as if the silence were a game she was winning. Alexander didn't speak. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Isabella sat beside him, her fingers pressed to her lips, trying to breathe through the weight of what they'd just learned.
Ivan Volkov was alive.
The thought looped in his mind like a broken reel. His father. The man who built an empire of blood and fear. The man Alexander had spent his whole life trying not to become. Alive. Watching. Waiting.
The road turned narrow as they approached the base of the Alps. Trees loomed over them like sentinels, thick with secrets. Fog crept in from the mountain's edge, veiling the path in silver mist. Marina shifted in the backseat.
He's expecting you
Alexander didn't respond.
At the top of the ridge sat a stone house, cold and silent. It looked abandoned—shattered windows, ivy devouring the walls—but the scent of cigar smoke and diesel told a different story.
They parked in the shadows. Isabella checked the pistol hidden in her coat. Alexander nodded at her, and they moved.
Inside, the house was dark, the kind of darkness that came from power being deliberately cut. Dust floated in the air like ash. Each floorboard groaned in protest as they stepped through the halls. Marina led them forward, smirking despite the bruise on her cheek.
This way
They descended a narrow staircase into the basement. The walls were lined with photographs—old, faded images of men in uniforms, contracts with blood seals, ledgers of names crossed out in red ink.
Alexander stopped in front of one of them. His own face. A younger version. Cold eyes. A smirk that no longer belonged to him.
He ripped it down.
The final door was metal, thick and bolted. Marina tapped twice, then once.
The door opened.
A man stood inside. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His hair was white now, but his posture hadn't changed. Neither had his eyes—steel blue, emotionless.
Ivan Volkov.
Alexander stared at him, breath shallow.
So it's true
Ivan raised a brow. His voice was colder than the stone walls
Of course it's true. Did you really think I would die that easily?
You let the world think you were gone. You let me bury you
Because you were never ready. I needed to see what you'd become
I became something better than you
Ivan chuckled, stepping closer. His presence filled the room like smoke
No, you became soft. You let love rot the core of your power. You gave up everything we built
What we built was a prison
It was an empire
It was blood and silence
Ivan's voice hardened
And now look where we are. Your little romance nearly got you killed. Your enemies are multiplying because they think you've gone weak. I came back to clean up the mess
Alexander stepped forward, jaw tight
No. You came back because you couldn't stand the idea of someone undoing your legacy
His father smirked
And what will you do now? Kill me? Right here?
Isabella's voice cut through the tension
Why come back now? Why let Luca make the first move?
Ivan turned his gaze to her, and for a moment, something dangerous flickered in his eyes
Because I needed to see if Alexander still had teeth. Luca was the test. You passed. Barely
Alexander laughed bitterly
So I'm just a test to you
You always were
The silence that followed was thick enough to drown in.
Then Ivan walked to a small table and laid out a set of files. Maps. Blueprints. A list of names.
There's a war coming. One bigger than you or I. The Bratva is splintering. The Americans are sniffing around again. And there's a new player in Istanbul trying to claim our ports. You need me
Alexander stared at the table, then back at the man who raised him in shadows
No. What I need is to destroy every piece of the monster you created. Starting now
Ivan's smile vanished
You would turn on your own blood?
I already did. The moment you taught me that loyalty meant silence. That love was weakness
He turned to Isabella, who was already moving. In one motion, she lifted her pistol and aimed it at Ivan.
He didn't flinch
If you kill me, you'll never survive what's coming. I know every move your enemies will make
Then write it down, Isabella said coldly
Or die with your secrets
Ivan chuckled again, but slower this time. A sound tinged with something else—respect, maybe, or the last gasp of old pride.
You two really think you're free of this life?
No, Alexander said. We know we're not
But we'll burn it down before we let it take us again
Ivan looked between them, then reached for a pen.
Good
He began writing. The silence in the room shifted. No longer heavy with tension, but charged with something new.
Purpose.
When they left the house hours later, Marina was gone—vanished into the night like a bad memory.
The papers Ivan gave them were tucked inside Alexander's coat. Names. Weaknesses. Alliances waiting to be broken.
They didn't speak until they were halfway down the mountain.
Do you believe him? Isabella asked
I don't need to. I just need to stay ahead of him
And if he tries to reclaim the empire?
Then I'll remind him why I walked away from it
The city lights were distant in the valley below, twinkling like stars that had fallen to earth.
Isabella leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes
We can't run from this anymore
No. But maybe we can rewrite it
As they reached the crossroads, Alexander slowed the van.
Two roads. One toward the city. The other toward a place they hadn't yet seen.
He looked at her
Which way?
She didn't hesitate.
Forward