Page 212 of Filthy Promises

All eyes turn to me. Some are curious, some skeptical, some openly hostile.

“I understand change is difficult,” I say, clicking to the first slide of my presentation. “Especially when the current system has been profitable. But legitimate business offers advantages that your current operations can’t match.”

“Such as?” asks the thin man with glasses.

“For one, the FBI will stop kicking in your doors.”

A few snort with laughter, though most stay stony-faced.

“To be more expansive, legitimacy is stability,” I continue. “Legal protections. Sustainable growth that doesn’t depend on territory disputes or shifting alliances.”

The unremarkable man snorts. “Pretty words from someone who knows nothing of our world.”

“Anton…” Vince warns.

But I place my hand on Vince’s arm, stopping him. “It’s alright. Anton is correct—I don’t know your world as intimately as you do. But I do know business. I know how to make money without risking prison or death.”

I click to the next slide, which shows a breakdown of their current operations side-by-side with legitimate alternatives.

“Each of your current revenue streams has a legal equivalent that can be just as profitable with far less risk,” I explain. “Illicit shipping operations can transition to legitimate import/export. Protection services become private security firms. Nightclubs and restaurants already operate mostly above board, so no need for much change there, but brand partnerships become an extremely viable option if you don’t have the stink of crime wafting around you.”

“And the rest?” Yuri asks, his young face skeptical. “Some operations have no legitimate alternative.”

“Those will be phased out,” Vince states firmly. “Gradually, but completely.”

The gray-bearded man leans forward. “The Bratva has operated like this for generations, Vincent. We do not simply ‘phase out’ who we are.”

“I’m not asking you to change who you are, Goran,” Vince replies. “Only how you move in the light of day.”

I skip to the next slide. This one has financial projections, with an arrow taking a pleasing arc up and to the right. “The transition would take approximately five years,” I explain. “Phase one involves establishing legitimate corporate structures for existing operations. Phase two redirects cash flow through proper channels. Phase three divests completely from high-risk activities.”

“And what happens to our people during this transition?” Dimitri questions. “Many have skills that don’t translate to your corporate fantasy.”

“Retraining,” I answer. “Reassignment where possible. Generous retirement packages where not.”

The men exchange glances.

“Why now?” Anton asks suddenly. “After all these years, why this sudden interest in going straight? It’s because of her, isn’t it? Because of the baby?”

The room falls silent. It’s the question looming over everything, the elephant we’ve all been dancing around.

“Yes,” Vince says simply. “It is because of my wife and child.”

Silence from the peanut gallery.

“But not only because of them,” he adds. “The world is changing. Law enforcement has new tools, new technologies. The old ways become more dangerous each year. Legitimacy isn’t just a moral choice—it’s a strategic one.”

The thin man with glasses—Pavel—nods in agreement. “He’s right. The algorithms they use now can track patterns we once thought untraceable. Money laundering is getting harder.”

“So what exactly do you need from us?” Mikhail asks.

He was speaking to Vince, but Vince turns to me, giving me the floor. It’s a gesture of trust and respect that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others.

I hide my hands behind my back so no one sees me wringing them together. “We need your boots-on-the-ground expertise,” I say. “Your knowledge of how things actually work, not just how they appear on paper. I can develop the business structures, but I don’t know all the intricacies of your operations.”

“And why should we trust you?” Anton challenges. “You’re an outsider. Worse, you’re Petrov blood.”

That’s a nasty barb, but not an unfair one. Vince and I talked through the possibility of it coming up. His preferred solution involved cutting out the tongue of the first man to speak it, but I convinced him that it was a reasonable fear.

---