Page 93 of Cruel Russian Monster
“Malishka!”
Jaroslav’s stern voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I focused on him. He was kneeling in front of me.
“Breathe, malishka,” he said tenderly.
Over the next few minutes, my breathing steadied. Then, Jaroslav sat next to me. He pulled out his phone.
“Lev, can we have a meeting at my place in the next hour? We need to discuss moving forward with Artyom, and my wife needs her sisters.”
After a few more seconds, he hung up.
“We'll have a house full of guests in an hour,” he smiled.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
***
An hour later, after hugs, kisses, and a few tears from Ninel, Mariya, and Katya, with the men looking on quietly amused, we settled in for the meeting.
It was decided that the sit-down with Artyom would take place that evening. Everyone would be present, and Katya insisted that Alexi be included, hoping his presence might thawa part of Artyom’s cold heart. Lev didn’t like the idea, but eventually agreed.
The location: neutral ground, a restaurant owned by one of the founding families. It was used exclusively for high-level negotiations and truces. It was considered sacred ground and operated under strict rules: no violence, no weapons, not even within the immediate vicinity. Security was tight, and the staff were loyal to the founding family. No one broke the rules and walked away unscathed.
Once Lev confirmed the space and that Artyom would attend, the meeting adjourned.
But instead of leaving, everyone stayed until it was time, and we left together as a group.
After being frisked by the restaurant’s security detail, we stepped into the elegant marble lobby.
“Ready?” Jaroslav asked quietly.
I nodded.
His arm wrapped protectively around my waist, and mine slipped around his as we entered.
Behind us, Lev, Marten, Pyotr, and Avit followed in silent formation. Katya came next, holding Alexi close to her chest, followed by Ninel and Mariya.
My siblings were already there.
Artyom stood up and walked towards us, as did Yegor. Zahkar leaned over and whispered something to Kira, and she nodded but stayed put.
The ladies took a seat with Alexi, while Jaroslav's brothers stopped behind us.
I had no idea what the inside of the restaurant looked like, not even the color of the tablecloths. I was way too nervous to notice the way Artyom looked at Jaroslav as though he wanted to rip him to shreds.
“Artyom, thank you for coming,” Jaroslav started.
“Let's get this over quickly, shall we?” Artyom snapped.
I flinched, and Jaroslav's thumb rotated along my side, soothing me.
“In exchange for Vera’s and Katya’s hands in marriage and to finally end this war, we’re offering the Eastern European smuggling route. You’ll also receive one monthly shipment of non-traceable, fresh military-grade weapons and ammunition. And we’ll give you access to our southern ports, move whatever you want. No interference.”
Artyom chuckled then, a cold, joyless sound. “After everything your family did…you offer crumbs for two of my sisters?”
His gaze swept over them like they were nothing more than something stuck under his shoe. “You want peace? You want me to accept this sham of a marriage?” He glared at me, as did Katya, and my pulse spiked. “Fine. But I want two shipments a month of your military-grade weapons and ammunition. I also want ten percent of your Bratva’s drug revenue, monthly.”
