Page 57 of Vendetta Crown

"That's one hell of an idea, Ruslan Vitalyevich," Ivan Svarikov says, tapping ash from his cigarette. "I see nineteen years of absence haven't dulled your instincts."

I nod, half-listening, and watch Alexei's eyes slide toward the window again.

Keep your eyes off my wife.I glare at him when I catch him looking again.You old pervert.

I take a slow sip of whiskey. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that Gregor's losing his touch."

A murmur of agreement rumbles through the room, and someone brings up that we might even need to talk about redrawing territory lines.

Alexei shifts in his seat, trying to peer around me. I adjust my stance, enjoying the flash of annoyance in his eyes when he looks over at me.

Behind me through the glass, I hear something unexpected. Laughter.

Not polite tittering, but genuine, uninhibited joy.

I can pick out Aurora's laugh, bright and contagious, but also the ones from the other wives. I've never heard them laugh like this at these gatherings. They're usually as stiff and formal as mannequins, speaking only when required.

"Perhaps we should take a ten-minute bathroom break," Alexei suggests, his eyes darting toward the window again.

"Why?" I reply, not budging from my position. "Eager to have your cock in your hands?"

"My bladder isn't what it used to be." Alexei squirms in his seat like a schoolboy. "Age catches up with all of us eventually."

I don't bother hiding my smirk. "Strange how your bladder only troubles you when other men's wives are wearing so little clothing."

A ripple of chuckles spreads through the room.

"I don't know what you're implying," Alexei bristles, but the flush creeping up his neck tells me I've hit the mark.

Dmitri Balakirev, never one to mince words, leans forward. His massive frame makes the leather chair creak in protest. "We're here to hammer out the first portion of a deal, Voronin, not ogle each other's wives."

"I would never?—"

"Save it." Dmitri cuts him off with a dismissive wave. "Let's focus on business. You can play with your limp dick later."

Alexei slumps back, properly chastised. "Fine."

Pavel Korsakov unfurls a map of California on the table, and we lean forward to look at the current territory lines. I can see the hunger glistening in each man's eyes as they look at the spaces between our domains.

"One other problem," Dmitri says, tracing his finger along the coast. "Anatoly Baryshev isn't here to negotiate distribution for drugs. Nor are the Volkov siblings present to discuss their properties in Los Angeles. Those are significant revenue streams. And Baryshev has the ear of the politicians."

I shrug, careful to keep my expression neutral. "As long as the bankers, the shippers, and gun runners are in agreement, the lesser bratvas will fall in line."

Dmitri's lips curl up at those words. He controls the largest shadow banking operation on the West Coast, laundering money for half the organizations in this room alongside Potyomkin.

"Fair enough," he says, nodding appreciatively. "Shall we start bidding for territories? I have a particular interest in averylucrative stretch of land in the San Bernardino Valley"

I listen as the pakhans murmur their agreement, voices mingling with cigar smoke in the stuffy room. The bidding starts, predictable as sunrise. Dmitri wants San Bernardino's roads where anything and everything is for sale. Pavel eyes the warehouses near Sacramento. Alexei, when he's not trying to peek at our wives, keeps mentioning Fresno's farmland.

Numbers fly across the table. Millions. Tens of millions. Percentages of profits. Exchanges of favors. Promises of men and guns when needed. The typical horse-trading that's defined these meetings for decades.

I remain silent through it all, nursing my drink and watching.

Everyone has a tell. Dmitri rubs his thumb against his glass when he's bluffing. Pavel's left eye twitches slightly when he's about to make a serious bid. Alexei's voice goes higher when he's desperate.

"Ruslan Vitalyevich," Dmitri finally says, turning those sharp eyes on me. "You've been quiet. No bids? No lines you want to redraw? Surely you didn't come just to block Alexei's view."

The men laugh, and I allow myself a small smile.

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