Claimed by My Mafia Alpha King Chapter 49

Nicolas’s POV

The morning felt clean.

That was the thing about dealing with a problem properly—it reset sothing. Like clearing a blocked drain. You didn’t appreciate how much pressure had been building until it was gone.

I leaned back in my chair and stretched my neck. The joint cracked, loud and satisfying.

Roman was at the window. Andrei had one hip perched on the corner of my desk, which I’d told him not to do approximately forty tis, and which he continued to do with the cheerful persistence of a man who knew I wasn’t actually going to do anything about it.

"You’re in a good mood," Andrei observed.

"I’m in my normal mood."

"Your normal mood doesn’t involve that thing your face is doing."

"What thing?"

He gestured vaguely at my face. "That. The corners. They’re doing sothing."

Roman turned from the window. "He’s saying you look almost pleasant, my lord. He ans it as a complint."

"I’m aware of what he ans." I picked up my coffee. "Get on with it."

Andrei grinned. He reached for the folder on the corner of my desk—the one I hadn’t touched yet—and flipped it open. "Alright. Eastern borders: stable. The Volkov situation settled faster than projected. No resistance from the secondary lieutenants."

"Good."

"The Kossarov family has gone quiet. Which either ans they’re being sensible—"

"Or they’re planning sothing."

"Or that, yes." He tilted his head. "My money’s on sensible, personally. They got a good look at what happened to the last three people who decided to be brave."

"Your confidence in human nature is touching."

"Wolfkind nature," he corrected cheerfully. "And I didn’t say confidence. I said money." He closed the folder. "The bigger item this morning is Iron Thorn."

I set down the cup.

"Maxim’s confirmation ceremony went ahead yesterday." Roman spoke from his position by the window. His voice was its usual careful flat. "Official now. He’s alpha of Iron Thorn. Which ans, per the accords—"

"He cos to ." I already knew. I’d known before Roman opened his mouth.

"Correct." Roman paused. "He’ll present himself as the new alpha for your acknowledgnt. Standard protocol."

Andrei made a small sound. "Should be a lovely visit."

I looked at him.

"I’m serious," he said. "The man spent a year systematically destroying your mate and then tried to plant rumors to make you throw her out. And now he has to walk in here and stand in front of you and bow." He sounded genuinely delighted. "I’ve been looking forward to it."

"Don’t enjoy yourself too much," Roman said. "We need him functional. The eastern route runs through Iron Thorn territory. If we destabilize the pack leadership—"

"Roman." I kept my voice patient. "I know."

He pressed his lips together. "Of course, my lord."

"I’m not going to do anything at the ceremony." I picked up the coffee again. "He bows. I acknowledge him. He leaves. That’s how it works." I paused. "What happens after the ceremony is a different conversation."

Andrei’s grin widened.

Roman looked like he was reconsidering his life choices.

"There’s one more thing," Roman said.

The tone of it made look up.

His expression was careful. The particular kind of careful he got when he was about to say sothing he expected to react badly to.

"The beta delegation," he said. "Maxim won’t be coming alone. It’s protocol to bring the pack beta as witness to the acknowledgnt."

I set the cup down.

"Who’s the beta?"

Roman glanced at the folder in Andrei’s hands. Andrei passed it over without comnt.

"Mikhail," Roman said.

A na. Just a na. But it landed in the room and the room felt different afterward.

*Mikhail.*

I knew the na. I’d read the file. I’d read every file. Irina’s father. Forr beta. The man who’d stood in a pack house and watched his daughter get ground down, day after day, and told himself so story about it. So comfortable, cowardly story that let him sleep at night.

"He doesn’t deserve to be in the sa building as her," I said. "He sure as hell doesn’t deserve to use a visit to his new alpha as cover to show his face here."

"There’s—" He stopped. Looked at the folder in his hands. "There’s been a complication."

I waited.

"Mikhail is coming to present himself," he said. "Yes. That’s the protocol, and I’ll handle the arrangents as you’ve instructed." He paused. "But that’s not the only reason he’s requested the visit."

"Then what’s the other reason?"

Roman exhaled. Small. Controlled.

"He says he’s looking for soone," he said.

Sothing shifted in the room. Subtle. The way air shifted before weather.

"He filed a formal inquiry." Roman kept his voice flat, professional. "Missing person. Pack mber who left the territory without authorization approximately fourteen months ago. He’s been tracking the trail for so ti and his information suggests the person may be—may have ended up in or near our territory."

Andrei’s brow furrowed. "Who’s he looking for?"

Roman looked down at the paper.

"His daughter," he said.

I straightened.

"Irina?" The na ca out harder than I ant it to.

Roman shook his head.

"No," he said. "Not Irina."

He looked up.

"His other daughter."