CAIN'S POV
Brighton Beach at night is a different world.
Russian restaurants and nightclubs line the streets, Cyrillic signs glowing in neon, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the bass thump of music. It's a slice of Moscow transplanted to New York, and it belongs entirely to Alexei Volkov.
Cain's car pulls up to the largest club on the strip—Red Star—and he can already see the security detail. Six men outside, all carrying, all watching their arrival with predator eyes.
"Last chance to back out," he tells Elara.
"Not backing out." She's dressed simply—jeans, leather jacket, hair pulled back—but there's steel in her spine. "Let's go meet your new best friend."
"He's not my friend. He's a necessary evil."
"So were you, once upon a time." She squeezes his hand. "Now you're just n
