Page 9 of Bratva Prince
After she left, I turned to Mihailo and asked, “Whowasthat woman?”
He only shrugged and said, “I’m not sure, but she looks familiar.”
“Shall we get some intel?” I asked, a smirk curling at the corners of my lips.
I’d decided to rent out a room at the hotel they were staying at. Luckily, Viktor was a blabbermouth and spilled the beans about where they were staying and for how long. It was like he wastryingto invite us in.
Sure, I’d have been more than happy to stay on my yacht, but I wanted to be closer to her. Something about her was magnetic, pulling me in, and I had to know more about her.
Besides, Mihailo said she looked familiar, and if she was sent to fuck with my plans, then I’d have to put a bullet between those pretty blue eyes.
When we got to the hotel—which was nice, something only someone with a decent amount of wealth could afford—I’d asked around. The staff was more than willing to help with my endeavors, especially when I slipped them a few euros for their trouble.
The hotel management referred to them as a couple. They even gave me the room number when I slipped them a few extra euros. When I spoke to the cleaning staff, they informed me that the room was a double.
Why would a couple need two beds?
I swore I’d seen Viktor eyeing me and Mihailo—Mihailo especially. Though, I wanted to believe that they were a couple and Willow wasn’t just making excuses not to see me. Besides, she didn’t even look attracted to him. Couples—especially new couples—have a spark in their eyes that wasn’t present in Willow when she looked at Viktor. Yet, she claimed he was her boyfriend.
But the whole thing didn’t make sense. Why lie about it? Was she just trying to keep me away? But if that was the case, then why lie to the hotel staff? Why book under the same name?
Unless she was a spy, sent to destroy my efforts to knock those motherfuckers down a peg.
Something didn’t make sense, and I would get to the bottom of it. But that would have to wait. For now, I had business to attend to.
Spero expected those guns and I had to deliver.
So, I ditched the two women, assuring them I had a wonderful time, but business was calling. Of course, they found the idea of being in the presence of an important businessman to be thrilling. If only they knew the business I was into… maybe then they’d leave me alone.
But all in all, they weren’t too bad of company. Could be worse. Sure, the ditz in the one-piece thought Moscow was in Thailand, but black bikini was cleverer than she let on. I never did ask for their names—and honestly, I wasn’t even sure they cared to give them to me—but ironically, they were staying in the same hotel.
Of all the hotels in Crete, all of us were staying at the same one? What were the chances? It only left me with more skepticism.
* * *
I pulledup to the abandoned shipyard in my hired car. I was alone because Mihailo took the jet back to Russia to look into a few things for me. Putting the car in park—there was no way I was taking one of my babies out to do business—I climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked into the building to meet my client.
“Spero, my comrade. How have you been?” My voice was friendly, as if we were two friends catching up over lunch, and my arms were opened wide—an act to put his mind at ease and show him that I wasn’t hiding anything, though it was masked as a greeting.
“Don’tcomrademe. Where the fuck is my delivery?” He spat, getting right down to the nitty gritty.
I shook my head and assured him, “It’s on its way. There was a bit of a delay. My apologies, friend.”
He narrowed his eyes, skeptical of my answer. With good reason to be. I’ve been late twice on my delivery thanks to Arman. Fucking prick. Stealing my shit like that, I should blow his fucking brains out.
“I’m not your goddamn friend. Twice now you’ve fucked me over. Twice. Do it a third time, and I will put you at the bottom of the ocean,friend.”
Dammit, Spero. You’re one of our biggest clients. I can’t lose you.
“I understand. Hell, if I were you, I would’ve already killed me. But you haven’t, which is smart. I’ll have your weapons, make no mistake of that. Koslov’s are true to our word. If we promise a delivery, we will deliver. And if we promise to kill you… well, let’s say you’d better get your will up to date.”
I wanted to subtly remind him that the Koslov’s are not to be trifled with.
“Make no mistakethat ifIkeep getting the runaround, then I’ll take my business through Arman. At least he delivers, but you—you’ve fucked me twice now. I want those weapons within a week.”
“Okay. Go with Arman, but you will realize that his promises were only to lure you in. Once he has you, he will fuck you harder than I did. It’s what dirty oligarchs do. But me? I’ve been transparent with you the entire time.”
That seemed to capture his attention. He side-eyed me, but relented, because I was honest with him. I didn’t bullshit my way around the man, and told him what was what from the beginning. Sure, sugar-coated words can be sweet to the ears, but when you realize that’s all it is, is sugar, then you realize it holds no substance.
