Page 25 of Nikolai Petrov

Ivanov switches his legs yet again and tries to disguise his glance at my study door.

Tosya isn’t here. The sheen of sweat on Ivanov’s forehead screams his nervousness.

Perhaps I won’t have to unveil Natalia’s presence after all.

“Chekov, how were the docks this week now that the frontman is eliminated? Any insight on the missing shipments?” The portly man sits up slightly at his name. His birthmark shines with extraordinary vengeance this evening.

“Only one missing this week, boss. It might be a holdover run from the snitch.” His eyes narrow as he stares directly at me.

I must admit, I’m impressed at his unwavering gaze.

I haven’t worked with him as long as Ivanov, but Chekov has always been an open book with me. Good or bad, his favorite pastime seems to be dumping every tidbit of information he has in my direction.

We’ve spent several hours this week going over plans since I discovered Ivanov’s betrayal.

“Excellent. How did the talk with Mr. Dawson’s wife go? Has he decided to push the permits through?” Three still are on hold. At least some progress is being made on the construction at my estate.

Chekov chuckles. “I sent Boris, my biggest and best looking guy, to talk to her. She practically followed him home on her own.”

The photos he hands me show the brute and the brunette twisted around each other in a hotel room. Jesus, the cock on that guy.

“She’s happy as shit, boss. We didn’t even have to tie her up. Dawson thinks she’s being held against her will. Fuck, boss, I doubt we’ll get her to leave.” Chekov shrugs as he leans back. “I think this is Boris’s favorite assignment yet.”

Laughter trickles out around the room, interrupted by a knock on the heavy door that leads to the foyer.

“Sir,” my butler says as he pokes his head through the opening. “There is a Mr. Tosya Koskovich to see you.”

“Send him in.” Giving a small nod to my two bodyguards standing in the back of the room, I rise to lean over my desk.

Prison has added a gaunt leanness to Tosya’s frame that makes his suit hang from his shoulders, but it hasn’t tempered the crazy that blazes from his dark eyes.

“Mr. Petrov!” His toothy grin spreads, highlighting gaps and gold caps on his teeth.

“Tosya. How was your time away?” He likely knows by now I had a hand in leading the investigation to point to him.

I’ll do anything I can to continue to fuck with the lives of the Koskovich family.

“Oh, you know.” His hand rocks in an idle gesture as he glances around the room.

Ivanov’s knuckles whiten as he tightens his grip on his glass.

“Ivanov! Where is my girl? You promised she would be here.” Tosya’s tongue lolls from his mouth as he grabs his crotch. “I can’t remember the last time I fucked a virgin.” His accent is still thick.

Anger boils under my skin, but I hide my ire with the motions of pouring a drink.

“Before I procure the prize, tell me of this deal you’ve made.” The smooth liquor tempers the rage that burns in my chest.

This bastard, and his father, had a hand in my wife’s brutal death.

“No big deal, Nicki.” He rubs his hands together and throws them out theatrically. “When my father came the first time, he saw there was room for growth. Building bridges, or some shit. I had to promise to marry an American girl and settle, isn’t that a fucking pain in the ass? Trapped with some cunt forever. But, hey, I’ve always wanted ginger pussy.” His laugh is a rasping cackle.

Ivanov shifts again and my nails dig into the wood of my desk to keep from tearing him apart.

Yuri was here. In my city. And, is putting down ties.

How many deals has he already forged here? Under my nose with Ivanov’s help?

Not going to happen.

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