CHAPTER 32
Gavril
I drummed my fingers along the table’s surface, staring back at the men who sat before me. They were in varying degrees of comfort, though I wished all of them were equally worried.
A confident brigadier was one that could be perceived as an enemy instead. Pakhans and dons might look like they were untouchable, but the ugly truth was that we weren’t.
Case in point, Stanislav Orlov. There was always someone around the corner, someone wanting to make a point or get a leg up on their own fucking ladder. I had learned after the tenth assassination attempt on my life that my position was never ironclad or safe for that matter.
I’d started to get smart about what I was doing, where I was going, and how to protect myself.
The men before me were what was left of the Krasnaya Bratva, the brigadiers that still had pull in the shambles of Orlov’s once-powerful Bratva and the ones I needed on my side to be loyal to me.
Konstantin Poroshenko, Sergei Puzanov, Ramzin Kovalyov, and Nikolai Lebedev were the highest-ranking brigadiers that were left. Each one of them wore in his hard expression the battles that he had fought. The criminal life was written in the tattoos across their bodies. On their fingers, their necks, and the stars that I knew hung on their shoulders.
In another time, I could have appreciated the way they coolly assessed me, especially Konstantin. The old Russian was well known for his brutality in the criminal underworld, and I knew better than to let his age fool me into thinking he was harmless.
He had been Orlov’s most trusted man, the one that he went to for everything. If Konstantin refused to bow, then no one would.
“Pakhan,” he said with the practiced air of friendly interrogation perfected in the hell of Russian prisons. “I hear rumors that I’d like to ask you about.”
I kept my expression neutral. “With what intentions do you ask?”
His eyes narrowed at the expected answer. I drew my line in the sand, reminding him that I was a Pakhan and he a brigadier. In the pecking order of things, he had no right to ask anything of me other than forgiveness.
“I meant no disrespect,” he said slowly, breaking protocol. “But there are rumors that you aren’t married to Stanislav’s daughter at all. That you deceived us all at the wedding.”
Arching a brow, I looked at the other men. Now it was my turn to ask. “Do the rest of you believe that?”
There were a few clearings of throats, but for the most part, the rest refused to meet my eyes, giving me the answer I needed.
“They say she’s an imposter,” Konstantin added, drawing my attention back to him. “That you did it to pull us to your side.”
I let out a dark chuckle, my wedding band catching on the light overhead and reminding me of what I had waiting for me at home. I wanted to be done with this business so that I could go back and climb into bed with Naomi, to reclaim some of the warmth I had already lost by stepping into this room with these fuckers.
I might need them, but I sure as hell didn’t like them.
“You mean no disrespect,” I repeated his words. “Yet you sit here insulting my honor with every word. Do you take me to be a dishonorable man?”
He didn’t flinch at the harsh tone of my voice. “I merely ask, Pakhan. Desperate men have done less.”
A barb that I expected, but it didn’t piss me off any less. I wanted to bury one of my knives in his fucking eye socket for the way he was looking at me, but I couldn’t. He was deliberately goading me, trying to give him a reason to challenge me for my throne.
He was cunning, but I knew how this game was played. “Do you believe me to be a desperate man? Are you accusing me of being a liar?”
“No.” Konstantin shook his head, yielding ground in this invisible chess game. “I merely wish to inform you that there are rumors.”
“Rumors.” I nodded. “This is my wife you are talking about. Stanislav’s daughter. His body is hardly cold in the ground, and already you spit on his memory.”
Konstantin’s eyes hardened, but he remained still.
That’s right, old man, I thought viciously. Know your place.
Finally, he dipped his head and I knew I had won this round. I needed to keep my eye on him and what he was telling the others so that I could head off any sort of rise against me in the future.
“I am demanding your loyalty,” I finally said. “To make a better existence for the Belaya Bratva to run not only LA but the entire West Coast.” I leaned forward, giving them a hard smile. “Under my name, you will be kings. Under my protection, I can give you the world. All I require is your loyalty.” It was a bold statement, and I knew I was pushing the envelope. But they needed to see me as overconfident.
I wanted them to underestimate me. It always worked out better that way.
“And what will we receive in exchange for our loyalty?” he countered, just as I expected him to. “Other than our lives?”
Another smirk as I pushed the chair away and stood, straightening my cuffs. “Far more than Stanislav ever gave you.”
“Oh?” Konstantin stated as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I swore inwardly and ignored it.
I gave him a slight smile. “Follow me and I will show you.”
I didn’t wait for them to follow as I stalked down the hall toward the door. There were so many things I wanted to do to these men. I wanted to slam them up against the wall and show each of them who truly was in charge, but not yet.
There would likely be a day when I inevitably exerted my power over them. And Konstantin would be the first one who would feel my wrath. Deep down, I knew he would be the one to step out of bounds—to reach higher than his lot in life when he was comfortable enough to do so.
Expect the worst, and nothing will surprise you.
The door opened as I approached, and Anatoly stood on the other side.
“Everything has been delivered as promised, Pakhan,” he said.
“And the contents?” I asked evenly.
“Whole and unharmed,” Anatoly replied smoothly. “I’ve inspected them myself.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Konstantin asked from behind.
I stepped aside to allow the former Krasnaya brigadiers to step out into the dying afternoon sun, watching their faces as they gazed upon the women standing before them.
“A token of good faith,” I told them, clasping my hands behind my back. “To show you I am a man of my word and that this will be the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership between us.”
The women had been well cared for on the shipment over, their clothing clean, and there were no outward signs of trauma on their faces. I felt the twist of my gut as I gazed upon them, Naomi’s face flickering into my mind. She would be horrified if she were here. She wouldn’t see the bigger picture of what these women represented.
They represented our future.
“Choose any that you like,” I offered as each man stepped forward. “Keep them if you wish. If not, they go to the market tomorrow.”
There was a gleam in Konstantin’s eye as he approached one of the women, his hand reaching out to touch the black tresses of her hair. She flinched at his touch and kept her eyes downward, likely hoping that if she didn’t meet his eyes, he might leave her alone. Poor fool.
Konstantin grinned. “A Ukrainian,” he breathed as he grabbed her arm and threw her forward. “Go on over there. I want you to have a partner.”
The other brigadiers finally stepped forward, and I watched with a neutral expression as they examined each woman, one of them laughing as he pulled a woman closer and tried to kiss her. Another reached for a woman’s ass, grabbing it hard as he ground against her body and she tried to push away, only adding fuel to the fire.