Nikolai Petrov Novels & Stories

So Alexander had lost control of his favorite weapon. Good. I scrolled. Beneath the video list, a small panel detailed more about OPERATIVE N. - NAME: NIKOLAI SERGEYEVICH VOLKOV - ROLE: FIELD OPERATIVE / ASSET RECOVERY - NOTES: EFFECTIVE, UNSTABLE. STRONG ATTACHMENT TO SUBJECT C‑01. RECOMMENDED: MANAGE OR NEUTRALIZE. Strong attachment. Manage or neutralize. The words swam. My fingers trembled as I scrolled further down, to another timestamp.

Accepting defeat was beyond him. "What seems to be the problem, sir?" I asked softly. Deep down, I felt like one of Christian Grey's submissives, only being allowed to address this idiotic man by sir or Mr. Astor. Again, he found it disrespectful if anyone addressed him as anything else. Saying his first name was the highest form of insult. He acted as if we were unworthy to speak his name. Drama Queen!

Emery who clearly had too much to drink. I swear I have seen him turn every shade of color in the last few days, “Connelly, can you shut the fuck up? I’m on the verge of puking up my guts and the last thing I need to hear about is my best friends sex life.” I wanted to laugh but I was still a little ticked off about the blonde bimbo taking Dalton into his office and acting like she owned the place, “Who the hell was that Maxine girl with the awful attitude and clear as day crush on Dalton?” Nick and Con looked up at me and Nick took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat, “She is one of the lead warriors that guards the border.” He glanced out of the side of his eye and I heard a thump

Holly asked. Trisha nodded. "What's his name?" Melanie asked. "He doesn't have one," Trisha mumbled, only just realising they hadn't given the faceless snowman a name yet. "Let's give him one then," Melanie said with a warm smile. "Any ideas?" "Er, Icy?" Holly suggested. "Snowy..." Sapphire threw in. "Frosty?" Emilie offered, approaching with a handful of stones. "Frosty!" Trisha cried with a bright smile. "Frosty the snowman!"

I said quickly. "Tali gave us the name. Barrikad Kuznetsov. From what I can see, he's a direct descendant of Gustav Kuznetsov. Boss of the Kuznetsov family. And the one in charge when Papa was in Stockholm," Nik said. I blew out a whistle. "I need you to start running a Karine Petrova. Something she said...she's in this. I'm not sure how yet, but she's at the center of it."

"Who do we need? Who is big enough to stop a man like Viktor?" Nikolai stepped closer, his face grave, his hand resting on my shoulder in a gesture of solidarity that felt like a brand. "Evelina... we need our father," Nikolai said, the words echoing through the Tundra like a gong. "We need Sergei Prokofiev. And you have to meet him... soon.”

I swerved the car onto the exit leading to the industrial district. The warehouse was dimly lit when we arrived, with the faint hum of machinery in the background. Dimitri walked beside me as I entered the private room where my private investigator, Viktor, and two of my trusted workers, Marco and Liam, were seated. “Talk,” I said sharply as I sank into the lone sofa across from them. Viktor dropped a file on the table between us. “It’s Nikolai Petrov. He’s been leaking intel to the government to sabotage your operations. But there’s more.”

the man’s tone didn’t change. Nico chuckled low, “What makes you think you can offer me anything, Petrov?” Petrov sighed, “Nico… Do you mind if I call you Nico? I thought you were a clever man. Men like you and I have secrets, don’t we? Secrets we wouldn’t want to get out.” Nico snorted. “Please. Spare me your idle threats, Petrov.” “I am not threatening you, Nico. I’m merely making a statement.” He waited for Nico’s reply. When he didn’t react, Petrov went on. “Consider carefully, Nico. You don’t want this to blow up in your face.”

Petrov had erased that plan with a single message. “So what does he want?” Damien asked. Elena leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. Petrov had spent years operating from the shadows. He had used Giordano and others to influence the Commission. He had helped orchestrate Antonio Russo’s death and benefited from the chaos that followed. He had done it all from Moscow, protected by distance and power. Now he was stepping forward. “He wants to negotiate,” Elena said at last. “He believes we both have something the other wants.”

His violent nature and unsatiated ambition have always kept him on my ‘to be wary of’ list. Nikolai clears his throat from his position opposite me. He has a physique similar to me, bulk-wise, but he’s more calm like Kai, probably due to the camouflage he excels at. His glasses make him appear sharp, smart, but they don’t hide the intensity of his foxlike eyes I smirk internally. “Do you have something for us, Roman Petrov?” Morozov asks in his serene, but very noticeable Russian accent. he’s also as old but appears younger because he’s healthy and still actually works out with his soldiers.