Page 160 of Filthy Lies

I draw my weapon in one fluid motion, aiming at the shadow-cloaked figure. “Give me one reason not to empty my clip into your skull right now.”

Grigor steps forward into the moonlight, hands raised slightly. He’s not armed—at least not visibly—though I’m certain he’s as dangerous unarmed as most men are with a machine gun.

“Perhaps because this meeting was not my idea,” he says calmly, as if my gun is a minor inconvenience. “I received a message claiming you wanted to discuss matters of mutual interest.”

The realization slams into me like a freight train. This is a setup. But who would dare?—?

“Take a breath, Vince.”

Rowan’s voice cuts through my fury as she steps out from inside the house.

Not just Rowan—but Rowan with Sofiya in her arms.

“What the fuck is this?” I direct the question at my wife, though my gun doesn’t waver from Grigor’s chest. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

Rowan’s green eyes—the same fucking shade as the man standing across from me—flash in the gloom. “If either of you cared about Sofiya, you’d both put away your egos and come inside. The FBI has eyes everywhere these days.”

“I’m not setting foot under the same roof as him,” I spit.

“Then you’re a fool,” Grigor replies. “And I had hoped you were smarter than your father.”

The mention of my father sends a fresh surge of hatred through me. “You don’t speak about him in my presence.”

“Gentlemen,” Rowan interrupts, “the FBI is building cases against both your organizations. While you’re busy measuring your dicks, Agent Carver is preparing to destroy everything you’ve built. Now, are you coming inside, or should I take Sofiya and leave you both to your pissing contest?”

I’ve never heard Rowan speak this way—with the authority of a woman who knows exactly how much power she wields.

It’s infuriating.

It’s also fucking intoxicating.

Reluctantly, I lower my weapon. Grigor steps aside, allowing Rowan to enter the lake house first. I follow, keeping myself between Grigor and my family, my body tensed and ready to strike at the slightest hint.

The living room is dimly lit, with files spread across the coffee table. Rowan settles into an armchair with Sofiya on her lap, leaving Grigor and me to take seats opposite each other.

Neither of us relaxes. Two lions circling, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

“I assume this little ambush was your idea,” I say to Rowan, not bothering to mask the anger in my voice.

“Would you have come if I told you Grigor would be here?” she counters.

“No.”

“Precisely why I didn’t mention it.” She shifts Sofiya to her other knee. “You’ve both been played by the FBI. They’re using each of you against the other while building cases against both families.”

Grigor’s eyes, so unnervingly similar to my wife’s, narrow slightly. “Explain.”

Rowan points to the files on the table. “That right there is a fuck ton of evidence that the FBI has been gathering onboththe Akopov and Petrov organizations.”

I lean forward, scanning the documents with growing disbelief. “Where did you get these?”

“That’s not important,” Rowan says. “What matters is what they tell us. The FBI isn’t just targeting the Solovyovs. They’re using them as a test case for a new approach against organized crime families. You’re both next on the list.”

I slump back in my chair, frowning. I’d made a deal with Carver, traded the Solovyovs for my family’s safety. But these files suggest that Carver had no intention of honoring our arrangement. He was collecting evidence against me even as I handed him the Solovyovs.

Grigor picks up one of the files, his expression darkening as he reads. “This is troubling, certainly. But why bring us together? Our families have been enemies for generations.”

“Because together, we have a chance,” Rowan says simply. “Divided, we all fall.”

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