Page 207 of Bitter Poetry
“I disappoint you?” He sounds incredulous again.
Gotta hand it to him, the Pakhan is really ballsy, and I approve. I wish I could see more than Ettore’s profile from here. It’s possible I won’t get out of here alive, so I’m going to enjoy the moment.
“Yes, you disappoint me—constantly. For too long, you have presumed that I, a Pakhan, serve you. That continuing to do so is my only option. I find I have grown tired of it, if I must be honest. And I do feel that while I’m pointing a gun at your head with my finger upon the trigger, I have leave to be fully honest.”
No one fucking moves. Apart from me. I’m still swaying a bit.
It’s only now that I notice that Leon and Dante have also drawn their weapons. They are not pointing at the Russian soldiers, who are the most prevalent force, but directly at Ettore’s men.
Dante, Leon, I fucking love you.Jero and Roman, I reserve judgment, but I might fucking love you too.
Mateo shifts slightly. There, boxed between him, Dante, and Leon, is Carmela.
Her eyes are huge in her pale face, but she also stands tall and fucking fierce—a perfect, defiant queen, utterly unafraid.
They’ve placed her strategically with her protection in mind.
They’ve planned this.
With the Pakhan?
They must have. Jesus, I don’t want to hope but…
DANTE
FOUR HOURS EARLIER…
Under different circumstances, I might appreciate that I managed to arrange a meeting with the Russians on such short notice.
When they suggested it be at our club and that the Pakhan himself was coming, I concluded that they either wanted something from us or were so confident of their position that they didn’t care either way.
Grigory Koslov has a presence. Leon is a big man, and Grigory, I note, is on par as he sweeps into Leon’s office. He has ten years on us, with gray at his dark temples. He’s been the Pakhan for the last five years, although rumor has it, he lost the position for a period of that timeline before wresting the power back.
The first glances are frosty as their men eyeball ours.
“Leon and Dante. The Barone men who are making waves.” The Pakhan nods toward us as his men spread out, taking up strategic positions in a perfect mirror of our soldiers. He turns tome. “My brother sends his regards to your wife, Dante. Tell me, is she still the dazzling personality I remember?”
“Helena is a bitch and I prefer not to think of her as my wife,” I say bluntly.
His smile is broad and appears genuine. “A marriage offering other benefits, then, I presume.”
“Shall we make ourselves comfortable?” Leon grits out, indicating the long couches before the window overlooking the club. “A drink, maybe.”
“Thank you, and nothing for me.” Grigor makes himself comfortable on the couch. Two of his men move to flank him.
Leon and I take the couch opposite.
“You fucked me over,” Grigory dives straight in. “Killed two of my men and set the police crawling all over us by telling them another of my men was involved.”
Go team Christian.
“An unfortunate incident,” Leon replies.
He’s still wearing an expression that says he wants to take Grigory by the throat. I’m fucking tense and questioning myself for trusting his earlier assurance that he could put their history aside.
“We couldn’t let your men take Carmela,” Leon continues, his eyes losing some of their heat. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Perfectly. I’d have done the same if the circumstances were reversed. It doesn’t mean I appreciate it. But I do appreciate you asking me over to discuss suitable compensation.”
