Page 302 of Legacy
Adriana’s brow furrows. “I didn’t ask for your help. Or speak to you.”
“Still angry with me, then?” Luciano chuckles, sliding into an empty seat. “That’s fine.”
Maksim doesn’t take his eyes off him.
“Adriana’s right,” Luciano continues, gesturing between me, Maksim, and himself. “We don’t go to the front lines. We’re too valuable.”
Coward.
“Bullshit,” Maksim snaps, leaning forward, eyes flashing. “If you’re too pussy to go to war, then go back to your sunshine and sail your fucking boat.”
Luciano smiles, slow and cold, but his eyes are deadly. Before he can speak, I cut in.
“Korsakov, we’re not going in reckless. NovaRael can run full undercover surveillance before we bleed men. We send a few in, hollow that shit from the inside out. Strategy, not recklessness.”
“Bylad!”Maksim shouts, slamming his fists on the table. “This is why we formed the Sovereigns—so we’d have enough men to bleed! My soldiers are willing. Areyours?”
“You—”
“Ayla,” Adriana says suddenly cutting me off, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed.
Maksim snaps toward her. “What?”
“If Angelo dies, I go back to Florida, under Luciano again. If Santo dies, Vasilisa ends up back in your care. And if you die… where does she go?”
She doesn’t blink.
“Better yet, where does Ayla go?” Adriana presses, voice like a blade. “Whodoesthat girl belong to, Maksim? Who protects her if you’re dead?”
Maksim goes still. No breath. No words.
Then he stands.
The chair scrapes across the floor, loud and final.
“Do what you have to, Amato,” he bites out, eyes locked on mine. Then to Vaska, clipped: “We’re done.”
He storms out, his men following.
Luciano’s laugh chases them out of the room.
The door slams shut behind Maksim.
The room falls silent.
Only Luciano remains laughing, slow and deliberate. He starts clapping, the sound echoing against the steel and glass like gunfire after the battle’s over.
He leans back in his chair, eyes locked on Adriana with amused admiration.
“Hermana,” he drawls, “you’re ruthless. Using his what—his woman? Against him? Nice.”
He stands, straightens his cuffs, and throws me a nod before sauntering out like he owns the place.
Silence again.
I turn to the room. My voice is calm. Final. “Santo will send assignments. You’re all free to go.”
Chairs scrape. A few murmurs ripple through as my men file out.
