Novel & Cerita Yuri Volkov

Ben reminded him. Scowling angrily, Yuri looked up into Ben's face. "You will speak with my business acquaintance." He walked away to the double doors. He hadn't even acknowledged Trish's existence yet. Ben looked over at the redhead who smiled at him. She preferred to be underestimated. A moment later Yuri returned with a man wearing a Russian Military uniform. He was carrying a double width attaché case which he set down next to the couch before continuing into the room. When they stood before Ben, Yuri spoke. "Ben Shepherd, this is Colonel Aleksei Vasiliev."

He raised his hand and slowly unlatched his armored helm. The face underneath was scarred and weary, but unmistakable. It was Victor Volkov, the ISS Flight Engineer who was supposed to have perished in the initial explosion of the Russian segment. "Victor, it’s me! It’s Mina!" she cried, stepping out from cover. "Mina, get back!" Kazimir warned, his finger tightening on his trigger.

Tessa pulled two blueberry muffins out of the box and set them on a plate, pushing it toward me. "Alright, start talking," Tessa demanded, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. "The news is saying Kieran Volkov is involved in some massive restructuring, but the internet forums are saying something completely different. They're saying he's connected to some very dangerous people from Eastern Europe…What is going on, Yara?"

He hit a puck, and the sound of it slamming against the boards. "That’s him," Bianca whispered. She was standing on my other side, looking small in her fur-trimmed coat. "Nikolai Volkov." I watched him. He was brutal. He didn't just play; he dominated the space. He came to a hard stop right in front of us, spraying a fine mist of ice over the glass. He pulled off his helmet, and my heart stopped. Blonde hair, matted with sweat. Sharp, high cheekbones. And those eyes.

“What I want is three of my men back. But since your… protector killed them, I’ll settle for compensation.” “Dante didn’t” “Dante Moretti shot three of my best soldiers.” His voice remained pleasant. Terrifying. “Kirill, Alexei, Dmitri. Good men. Loyal men. Now dead because some scorned woman paid me to eliminate a pregnant girl.” My hand moved instinctively to my stomach. Volkov noticed. “Relax. I don’t kill children. Even unborn ones.” He tilted his head. “But you? You’re different. You’re leveraged.”

But Angelo finally delivered. The fucker was in the basement. I stood in my study, staring at the report Angelo had compiled. Dmitri Volkov. Age 34. Russian member. Works for Viktor Kozlov. The same Viktor who had made veiled threats at the gallery. Who had been circling my territory for months, waiting for a weakness. He had found one. Or so he thought. I read the rest of the report. He had a shell company in Delaware. Had three previous assault charges, all dismissed—known associate of the Kozlov Bratva but no direct ties to anyone in my famiglia.

- Kellion, said. A gasp, and then Kathy released him and pushed his head away. " Are you all right, Yuri? " - Kathy, asked. His cocked aching painfully at the terrible sense of loss of being parted from Kathy's lovely pair of breasts, he managed a strained smile. " Yes, of course. " - Yuri, said. He heard Kellion laugh behind him, and Yuri, for once, did something improper. He flipped his president the finger behind his back. 'Damn you, Kellion Mico Argyros'. He had been drowning happily, but the bastard just had to cut his pleasure short.

"Proof that the agents surrounding the park are really Kozlov's people." "Look to your left," Elena instructed. I turned and saw a man in FBI tactical gear positioned on a nearby building. He was looking through a sniper scope, but it was pointed at the roller coaster where I sat, not at any potential threats. "Agent Rodriguez," Elena said. "Except his real name is Dmitri Volkov, and he's been working for Kozlov for fifteen years. The rifle he's aiming at you is equipped with a silencer." The man adjusted his scope, and I could see his finger moving toward the trigger.

My breath caught as Nikolai clicked into a folder labeled simply Legacy. Photographs. Grainy scans of birth records. A young boy, maybe eight or nine, with the unmistakable sharp Volkov features—dark hair, piercing eyes that mirrored Nikolai’s in intensity but held a colder edge. The name beneath it: Viktor Volkov. Son of Elias. Born in secret twenty-two years ago. Trained off-grid. Groomed as the “pure heir.” Nikolai went deathly still beside me. I felt the tension rippling through his powerful frame, his fingers tightening around mine until it almost hurt.

Alex growled clenching the wolf's throat tighter “ yeah but he didn’t. He’s after something right? How about we find out what that if first before we hurt him.” I explain swallowing the lump that formed into my throat. He looked at me for a moment before nodding. Handing the whimpering wolf over to the man that now stood at a tree behind us he gave them orders to put him in the cellar without harming him as of my request. We sat through the rest of our shift at the borderline in silence. I know he disagrees with what I said but I can’t help but feel like he’s innocent.