Nikolai Volkov Book Novels & Stories

I turned to see Anya, one of the younger maids, standing frozen, her hands hovering over a pile of books she had just dropped. “Are you okay?” I asked. She nodded quickly. “Yes, Miss Isabella. I—I was just—” Her eyes flicked to something on the floor, and when I followed her gaze, I saw it. A small, leather-bound book. I bent down before she could react, picking it up. The cover was worn but elegant, and when I turned it over, I saw the name written in faded ink. Nadia Volkov. My heart stopped. I looked up at Anya, whose face had gone completely pale.

So the streamers stayed half-hung in the doorway, and somewhere in the apartment a caterer's assistant called about cake flavors, and underneath all of it, the three of us sat at the kitchen table with a letter that had cracked something open none of us had seen coming. "I want to know everything," I said. "Before we do anything else. Who the Volkovs actually are. What my mother ran from. I can't make a single decision about this until I understand what I'm actually dealing with." Nico was already on his laptop, the particular focus in his face reminding me of the nights he'd spent tracing Kessler's shell companies two years earlier. "Volkov," he said slowly, scrolling. "There's not much pub

The door opened, and I was greeted with the smirking face of Nikolai volkov. “ Gambino,” he said his voice dripping with malice “ so good of you to come, but I wasn't expecting you” “ Save the bullshit volkov” I said sternly. We walked into the meeting room, the tension palpable “ so, Volkov “ I said, my voice firm “ what is it I hear about you trying to enroach in my territory” Volkov smirked “ just trying to expand my business Gambino. You know how it is” I laughed, a Cold, hard sound “ you know how I feel about that, you think you could take me down?, What I built with my sweat and blood “

I stayed still even when he pulled away, his warmth stripping away leaving me standing small in front of him. His midnight eyes slowly looked down at me, darkness swirling in those orbs exactly like the day I first saw him. Alexei Volkov was a force not to be interfered with. He didn’t rise from the ashes, he make them. And when his lips curled in a knowing smirk, I braced myself for his next words. “You saw the pictures, didn’t you…” it was more of a declaration than a question.

“But I tortured your man. How can you…” “We have bigger fish to fry. Gabriel wouldn't mind the deal.” It made sense to Vladimir. Hugo was more clever and calculated than he had imagined. But Volkov was not someone to toy with. He could find people hidden in the darkest of places and Vladimir had witnessed firsthand what he did to traitors. Vladimir had been a part of the executions and punishments. Those weren't a joke. Ivan Volkov had been a general in the Soviet Army. He knew various ways to make a person beg for death. He could make KGB prisons sound like a playground.

No one reacted. No raised voices. No surprise. Just silence. Then— Nikolai leaned forward slightly, his hands resting against the table. “You carry a name that commands empires,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But it demands something in return.” His gaze hardened. “You are a Volkov.” A pause. “You do not have the luxury of choosing love.” The words settled into the room like a verdict. No one challenged them. Noah didn’t argue. He didn’t agree either.

This was what she’d been afraid of from the beginning—that everyone would make decisions about her body, her pregnancy, her future, and she would simply be the vessel they discussed. “I did,” Nikolai confirmed. “Because we needed to know how far we could push this before it collapsed. And the answer is: quite far. Volkov will back our story because he understands that your father discovering the truth on his own would be far more dangerous than our controlled revelation of a version of it.”

The first real pressure came from a place I hadn’t expected. I was in the west atrium reviewing documents when Nikolai passed through, his presence announced by the soft echo of his boots against stone. He slowed when he saw me, nodding politely. “Mrs. Volkov,” he said. “Busy day?” “Always,” I replied. He hesitated. It was subtle. A fraction of a second. But I had learned to notice those moments. They were where the truth lived. “I heard you’ve been expanding your external contacts,” he said casually. “Traveling more. Meeting new people.”

The warning was clear, vibrating the floorboards. Nikolai held up his hands, palms open. "I am not here to fight you, brother. Not today. Viktor has taken the docks. He has taken the warehouses in the north. He is telling the council you are dead, and he is already wearing your ring." Ivan’s jaw tightened. "And you? Whose side are you on this week?" Nikolai laughed, a jagged sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “My side, Ivan, always my side. But Viktor is a peasant and he wants to turn the Volkov name into a footnote, I cannot have that.”

A cacophony of voices resound in my head, the entire pack speaking, and when I focus, I can sense the Volkov brothers. /“Why the fuck is he here? Didn’t he say he would be leaving?”/ I hear Konstantin over the mind link and recall Nikolai’s discussion with me a few days ago. Vladimir said that he would be leaving New York for Russia; so why is he here now, calling for Alpha Kai? I see the brothers all rushing out of the mansion to see what’s going on, ready for a fight if need be. /“Something is wrong with him…he’s bleeding-”/ Just as I say this, we spot a figure hunched over in the middle of the clearing, and Nikolai growls.