Page 21 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

I shake my head. “I’ve never had a need for impatience. I get what I want the second I want it.”

Giorgos’s brows rise. “Does that mean you don’t want my sister? She’s beautiful, is she not?”

I study Xena for a moment. She lifts her chin, doing her best to show off her delicate features. But looking at her is like looking at a marble statue—I can appreciate the beauty, but there’s an uncrossable distance between us.

I don’t want her. I wouldn’t follow her into an airplane bathroom, for instance, hoping to get rid of the ache in my balls caused by a simple conversation.

I push thoughts of Belle aside. Arslan already texted to tell me he took care of our little problem. I don’t need to think about her again.

Especially not when I’m in the middle of a deal.

“Your sister’s beauty has nothing to do with my interest in this partnership. It is your control of the ports, as you mentioned, that I’m interested in.”

“A business man through and through,” Giorgos says, looking far more pleased about this fact than his sister does. “It’s that kind of focus that saw Zhukova Inc. triple their profit margins in the last two years alone. You have a true rags-to-riches story. It’s inspiring.”

If his intentions weren’t clear enough already, the smirk that spreads across Giorgos’s face makes them crystal clear.

“You want to talk about where I came from?” I ask dangerously.

The Greek’s expression pales. He waves a hand. “No, I only meant—”

“You meant to remind me where I’ve come from, as if I could forget the early years of my life,” I say. “As if the painstaking climb I made from poverty to prosperity might have somehow made me weak.”

He shakes his head. “No, Nikolai, I really didn’t intend to—”

“You didn’t intend to anger me, but few people ever intend that. Because the ones who do, don’t live to try it again.” The men around us are eerily silent, radiating a nervous energy that I feed on. The tang of fear never gets old. “If I’m an inspiration, it’s for fear. For respect. It’s the reason you’re selling your sister to me. So I can stand between you and the Battiato mafia.”

Giorgos’s smile slips away. “And you will share control of my ports, my brother-in-arms. Any good deal is mutually beneficial. I won’t have this made out as some kind of charity towards me.”

“And I’m not being sold,” Xena butts in.

I smirk. “Then take away the incentive and see if I still want to marry you.”

Her face flushes a hot, embarrassed red. I turn back to Giorgos. “You may know me best as CEO of Zhukova Incorporated, but that is only my mask. First and foremost, I am don of the Zhukova Bratva. And my path to the throne was paved with the broken bodies of those who thought they could intervene. I have no trouble adding a few more.”

Giorgos runs his tongue over his teeth a few times before he manages another smile. “Don’t forget we are allies, Don Zhukova. There’s no need for violence.”

“Then let’s make a fucking deal before I change my mind.”

“Our terms are already set,” Giorgos responds. “You will offer protection as we claim more territory inland, and I will give you access to my ports and cargo ships. Forget tripling—your profits will multiply by ten. It’s a very fair deal.”

Xena elbows Giorgos, and he clears his throat. “And you will marry my sister, of course. It will finalize the agreement and—”

“I understand how a symbolic marriage works,” I interrupt.

Giorgos nods. “Of course. Okay, so now we—”

“It isn’t symbolic,” Xena says, leaning forward. “It will be a real marriage.”

“No one is saying it won’t be real, sister.”

“The two of you just did!”

“Interrupting important meetings hopefully isn’t a habit of yours,” I drawl. Xena looks like she wants to say something, but her brother nudges her. “Legally, our marriage will be binding. That is what I agreed to and that is what you’ll get. My word is good.”

The tone in my voice is enough to bow Giorgos’s head. “No one is suggesting it isn’t. Xena knows you’re an honest man. As honest as any of us mafioso bastards can be, anyway,” he laughs.

But I’m not laughing.

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