Page 8 of Goodnight, Sinners

“If you don’t need me anymore, I think I’ll go home.” She hugged each of them and waved to her new bodyguard, heading toward the man.

“Thank you for assigning someone to her. I think it helps her feel more secure.” Shaun watched her mother talk to her bodyguard, smiling at something he said.

Her safety means as much to me as yours,Jozef signed.Come, it’s time for us to find out what the Russians have to say to me.

Chapter Four

You’ll translate,Jozef told Shaun, leading the procession into his study and closing the door. He took Shaun’s arm and led her to the seat she liked in front of the fireplace.

She sank gratefully into the plush leather armchair, wishing she could kick her shoes off and rub her feet. It had been a long day for heels, but she chose them knowing there would be powerful men at the funeral and reception. She felt better, more powerful, with more height. She couldn’t afford to look weak around these people, couldn’t afford to make Jozef look weak. He’d been preparing her for weeks so she would understand what was at stake. It wasn’t just his livelihood, but their lives as well.

Jozef didn’t invite the others to sit, so the group of men remained standing. Shaun nearly stood as well, wanting to be on equal footing, but resisted the urge. Jozef placed her in the chair for a reason. She wouldn’t question his decision. Not in front of these men, anyway.

While Jozef poured drinks, Shaun studied the two newcomers.

One was named Alexei Ivanov. Jozef had told her the man was there to assess the level of organization surrounding the Kobas. If it looked like Jozef had the situation well in hand, then he would keep the power he had seized for himself. Alexei could make Jozef’s life difficult if he took a less than stellar report back to the rest of the Bratva.

The man wore a beautifully tailored suit. He was tall and robust. He looked to be around fifty, but it was difficult to tell. She looked him over with a professional eye. He’d had work done. Facelift, cheek surgery, chin surgery, lip surgery. She wondered if cosmetic surgery was common to the oligarchs of Russia or if this one was vain.

Shaun glanced away, realizing her bias toward these criminals could be a problem if she continued down the path of her current thoughts. She didn’t think cosmetic surgery was inherently wrong. She’d seen gastric bypass surgeries give patients a new lease on life and something as simple as a Botox injection give patients the self-esteem they needed to face the world again.

But there was something about Alexei that rubbed her the wrong way. She just knew he chose his surgeries with the same whim he used to choose his next meal.

She glanced at the other man, Yuri Antonovich. She was curious about him. Both Havel and Jozef had warned her to keep her distance. Neither explained why, but she suspected it had something to do with the cold, slimy eyes slithering down her body and resting on her crossed legs.

She held his stare for several uncomfortable seconds. The heat rose in Shaun’s cheeks and she was about to move, just to break his intense look, when Jozef stepped in between them, breaking Yuri’s line of sight.

Shaun sighed her relief and accepted the glass of red wine Jozef handed her.

Jozef stood next to Shaun’s chair, his hand sliding across the back. He didn’t touch her, but his presence warmed the room and chased away any lingering panic she’d been feeling earlier.

“Let’s get started,” Alexei said, glancing around, probably for a chair. When he failed to come up with one, he leaned his hip against Jozef’s desk.

Jozef dipped his head in a nod and straightened. He positioned himself so the men could see him and so Shaun could too for translation. She didn’t understand why he wanted her to translate instead of Havel, but she suspected it was so Jozef could project a united front to the Bratva. She was to be his bride and would occupy an important role in his life and organization.

There is nothing to discuss. I will not relinquish my title or holdings to the Bratva. You will recognize my right to ownership, or you will declare war with the Czech Republic.

It was everything Shaun could do not to gape at Jozef. Then it was everything she could do not to question him in front of these men. He’d assured her that these two men spoke for the Bratva and could bury the Koba organization if they judged against Jozef. Did he really want to start off so aggressively?

Apparently, he did.

Shaun dutifully translated.

Alexei laughed. A chilling, disdainful laugh that gave Shaun goosebumps.

“You speak boldly for someone of your position. You are new to the title of Vor, yet you challenge those who are well established. I’m not sure if you are incredibly smart or stupid, but I will warn you to go more carefully with this conversation.”

Shaun agreed with Alexei.

Jozef didn’t.

You will recognize my claim, or you will leave. If you choose the second option, the next time we meet you will die by my hand.

Alexei straightened from the desk and glared at Jozef. “You shouldn’t make threats you could come to regret. The power of the Koba organization may be behind you, but you are in disarray. You couldn’t organize a coup if you wanted to, and you certainly couldn’t bring it to Moscow.”

Are you so sure of that? Do you want to risk everything on that assumption? We are a powerful family with a powerful nation behind us. We have allies in Poland, Ukraine, and beyond who will not hesitate to side with me. Some who are tired of living under the thumb of the Bratva would welcome a war.

Shaun bowed her head as she translated, not wanting to meet the eyes of Alexei as she said the words.

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