The  Petrov estate loomed against the cold grey sky, all stone and iron, built to impress and intimidate.

I stepped out of the car, Adrian at my side.

Two guards flanked the heavy front doors, armed and stone-faced.

Adrian shot me a look — subtle — as we walked up the steps.

Careful.

This wasn’t neutral ground.

We were walking straight into the lion’s den.

The butler — an older man with a rigid posture — led us through grand halls lined with dark paintings, chandeliers gleaming overhead like a thousand quiet eyes.

Finally, we entered a massive study.

Viktor Petrov stood by the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back, a tumbler of vodka untouched at his side.

He turned as we entered, his face carved from ice.

"Romano," he said, nodding once.

" Petrov," I returned smoothly.

No smiles. No pretense.

We both knew what this was.

Adrian stood silently behind me, sharp and watchful.

"Let's get to the point," Petrov said, moving behind the massive oak desk. "You’re here about the arms."

"You allowed the Silicans to steal from you," I said calmly, stepping forward. "And in doing so, you compromised my business."

Petrov’s jaw tightened — just slightly.

"Allowed?" he repeated, voice cool. "You assume much, Romano."

"I don't assume," I said, my voice steady and cold. "I know."

The silence between us crackled like a live wire.

Finally, Petrov sighed — a hard, exhausted sound.

"We are... dealing with the Silicans," he said. "They won't be a problem much longer."

I smiled thinly.

"I’m sure," I said. "But while you 'deal' with them, my profits bleed. My allies question my strength."

His cold eyes locked on mine.

"And you want compensation," he said flatly.

"No," I said, surprising him — just a flicker of it in his eyes.

"I want trust."

His head tilted slightly.

"And loyalty."

A longer silence stretched between us.

Petrov finally nodded once.

"We can arrange something," he said. "A gesture."

I inclined my head slightly — accepting but not forgiving.

I didn't fully trust him.

And somewhere above us —

in the twisting halls of this cold estate —

I knew Ashley  Petrov was here too.

Waiting.

Hiding.

Playing her own game.

And soon, very soon...

She would have no more places to hide.