Page 58 of Vendetta Crown

"No good tsar has ever stayed a tsar for very long by taking from his boyars," I reply, setting my glass down. "My interest isn't in acquiring territory."

I lean forward, placing both hands flat on the table.

"What I want is a simple rewriting of the rules. TheVori'slong-term future must be safeguarded now that Gregor is willing to negotiate with the Triads behind our backs."

A tense silence follows. Mentioning Gregor's betrayal still feels like picking at a fresh wound.

"If that's the case." Ivan Svarikov clears his throat. "I wouldn't mind picking a few fights with the Triads for the ports and strip clubs in San Diego," he mutters, fingers drumming against the table. "And I want a freer hand to be more brutal with the cartels. They're clearly trying to form an alliance and they're stealing from my bowl."

"You can have that, Ivan Abramovich," I say. "But you cannot cross into Tijuana to start fights with the cartels. Not yet, anyway."

Svarikov considers this, then gives a curt nod. "I can agree with that."

Slowly, the deals have come together like a choreographed dance. The pakhans' signatures slide across contracts, and handshakes seal these initial promises.

I know this is no coronation.

Not yet.

Too many key players are missing for this to be anything more than a first step. But what a critical step it is.

The foundation for a newZapadniye Vori, one that will stand against Semyon and the Triads, is taking shape before my eyes.

I drain my glass, half-listening to Pavel and Dmitri congratulating each other over their newly acquired territories. Their voices fade to background noise when I turn and catch sight of her through the window.

Aurora.

Even among these powerful men, my eyes find only her. She's watching me, those hazel eyes piercing through glass and smoke. I give her a curt nod, and she returns it with a small smile that warms me more than any whiskey could.

"Who's staring now?" Alexei slides up beside me, offering a fresh glass. "Seems I'm not the only one with wandering eyes."

I accept the whiskey, tilting it toward him in acknowledgment. "The difference is, I only have eyes for my wife."

Alexei chuckles, swirling his drink. "A rare man indeed in our world. One who's actually in love with his wife. Most of us would rather be anywhere else than in our marital beds."

"Is that so wrong?" I take a measured sip. "To love the woman who stands beside you?"

"I suppose not." A shadow crosses his face. "But one grows tired of monogamy."

I set my empty glass down on the ledge. "Thank you for hosting, Alexei Kusmich. But Aurora and I need to head home now."

"And what of our future meetings?" He grins, revealing crooked teeth. "Will we continue meeting here in view of my pool, Ruslan Vitalyevich?"

I finally let my agreeable façade drop.

"In the old days," I say quietly, "tsars had the right to blind and castrate any boyar who coveted things that didn't belong to them."

Alexei's smile falters and the room goes silent.

"I won't take any material goods from you, Alexei Kusmich." My hand lands on his shoulder, fingers digging into muscle. "Neither your money nor your properties. But this is the last time you'll so openly flaunt your perversions before me."

"I don't… I wasn't…"

"If you want to ogle women, do it with the prostitutes you employ." My grip tightens. "But if I catch you staring at my wife or any other man's wife again, Iwilltake your eyes and balls."

Alexei's eyes dart to the other pakhans, searching for support. Finding none, his shoulders slump.

"I apologize, Ruslan Vitalyevich," he mumbles.

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