Yuri Volkov の小説・ストーリー

“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.

His thumb pressed into the hollow of my throat. He could feel my pulse race. I was so sure of it. We were silent for a while but he didn't let go of me. He just stood, naked, and studying me to see if a lie would cross my face. After a long moment, he tilted his head. “You're telling the truth”. He said it was like a verdict but he didn't drop the knife. “This apartment belongs to Viktor Volkov. The contract killer. The man they call the Ghost of the Eastern Bloc”.

His body shimmered and began to shift. The transformation was both terrifying and beautiful. Bones cracked, muscles stretched, and thick fur—deep obsidian with streaks of silver—rippled across his growing frame. In seconds, the man was gone, replaced by the majestic beast that was his wolf, Ravik. Massive and regal, Ravik stood taller than any other werewolf on the field. His glowing golden eyes shone with a fierce determination, and his presence radiated raw, unyielding power. He didn’t wait. With a snarl that echoed across the shore, he sprinted through the rift. The crack sealed behind him the moment his hind legs crossed the line.

- R H Y K E R "Captain of the White Knights, Akito Takeshi, Kai Takeshi and lastly the first commander of the army, Camélia Gran!" The guard announced, making me sigh in exasperation, I hate paperwork and if it's an urgent matter I should deal with it and solved it. My country is important to me, like my family and my girlfriend. There are three things that matter to me, I can't abandon one of them, it would represent death for me. "Your royal highness." They bowed down, I waved my hand and showed them where to seat. Akita stayed up while the commander and Kai sat down, lazy people.

"You have a very expensive habit, Mr. Vane. Or should I say, Mr. Moretti?" The voice was like shattered glass. I turned to see Mikhail Volkov. He was shorter than Dante, but wider, with a beard that looked like it was made of wire and eyes that held the coldness of a Siberian winter. He was flanked by two giants who looked like they enjoyed breaking bones for sport. "It’s just Vane," I said, my voice sharp. "The other name is a temporary arrangement."