Page 127 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

“What is it?”

“Last night, I stopped by the Greek restaurant where he likes to hold court. I just wanted to peek in and make sure it was business as usual, but he wasn’t there. I tracked him down and realized he was across town at Toxic Kate’s.”

“The Battiato hangout,” I growl. “What was he doing there?”

“I couldn’t get inside—no one ever forgets a face this good-looking—but I sent a few of our newer recruits in. I figured they wouldn’t be recognized. They said Giorgos looked pretty chummy with everyone there.”

I tighten my fists at my side. “Bastard.”

“He did say he’d partner with them if you didn’t get rid of Belle,” Arslan reminds me.

“Tell me you’re not defending that motherfucker.”

“Of course not. I’m just saying, he warned us.”

“And I warned him,” I snap back. “Maybe he needs a refresher of what he stands to lose if he takes up arms against me.”

My hands are already itching for revenge. Partnering with the Battiatos is a threat. Giorgos understands that.

And no one threatens what I’ve built without consequences.

“What do you have in mind?” Arslan asks.

“Whatdon’tI have in mind?” I retort. “The bastard deserves his fat head stuck on a spike. He wants to let his sister try to yank me around by the balls? Let’s see how Giorgos lives without his.”

Arslan whistles. “Brutal. Unnecessarily visual, but brutal. You planning to come back and deal with it, then?”

I’m about to say yes when I hear Belle clear her throat absent-mindedly from the other room.

I turn back to look at her. She’s stooped over her black notebook, her pencil scratching furiously across the page. Even from here, I can tell she isn’t paying me any attention. She’s wholly focused on what she’s doing. Absorbed in the task at hand.

Her hair is tucked back behind her ear, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. She’s relaxed here.

And I am, too.

“No,” I say, deciding all at once. “You can handle it. I trust you.”

Arslan almost chokes. “You’re going to let me handle this?”

“Isn’t that what you’re always begging me for? To let you have more fun?”

There’s a brief pause before I hear my second-in-command chuckling darkly. “Fuck. Yes. This will be fun.”

“Remember, you’re giving him a warning,” I remind him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“A warning shot. Yeah, yeah. I know. Nothing a little fire can’t solve.”

“You pyromaniac,” I laugh. “If you have to incinerate something, make it one of his businesses.”

“You want to cripple him financially? That feels like more than a warning shot.”

“It’s a reminder,” I say. “He’ll remember how much he needs me as soon as one of his streams of income is cut off. And if he’s smart, Giorgos will also remember how little I need him.”

I hang up, feeling mostly confident that Arslan will stay within the bounds of reason, and pad back into the dining room.

Belle is so focused on what she’s doing that she doesn’t even notice me walk up behind her.

“What’s that?”

---