Mikhail waits for my answer.
“Two goats and an ox,” I say.
He snorts and rolls his eyes at my remark. Mikhail doesn’t have a sense of humor.
“I’m not for sale,” Aleksandra says. She’s insulted.
Good, then my offer was believable.
“On the contrary,” Mikhail says with a wicked smirk. “I was paying Luka to take her off my hands.”
“What?” Aleksandra’s eyes widen.
How could she not realize the marriage arrangement had some form of monetary value?
Luka wasn’t wedding her because he loved her or was trying to save her from her older brother. She couldn’t be that naïve to think the marriage was anything more than a bargaining tool.
“Do you think I enjoy keeping you and your rambunctious little brats under my roof? I tolerated you because you are family. But after running off and betraying your flesh and blood, I’ve had enough.”
Aleksandra’s jaw drops. “That’s not fair! That isn’t what happened,” she says, quick to clarify that she didn’t betray her brother. Is it because she wants to mend the tear between them or something else?
Mikhail waves his hand dismissively at Aleksandra. “I don’t care about your excuses. You will marry Luka unless Antonio wants to hand over control of his kingdom.”
“He’ll never do that!” Aleksandra pushes closer to her brother, coming to stare up into his stone-cold gaze.
She’s right, and I’m not about to turn over control of my empire to the Russian bratva. But I need to stall. I’m waiting for my smartwatch to buzz with a coded message, a text to let me know my kids are safe.
There’s been no alert and no message yet, so I try to delay the inevitable. Besides, the longer I’m in the foyer, I’m not being detained in their prison, or worse, dead.
“Surely, you could use more money,” I say.
“You want to buy my sister?” Mikhail asks with a hearty laugh. “I never took you for the kind of man who would pay for sex.”
“I’m not paying for one night with Aleksandra. I’m paying for every night with her for the rest of my life.”
Aleksandra flinches, her eyes tighten, and I can’t quite read her emotions. Is she angry at my suggestion?
“How much?” Mikhail asks. He nods for his man to bring me to my feet. “I don’t do business with men who beg.”
I wasn’t begging or pleading for my life, but it’s not worth the argument or the waste of breath.
“One hundred thousand. It’s enough money to fund your extracurricular activities,” I say. It’s no secret that the bratva delves into illegal arms dealings.
Mikhail pulls Aleksandra closer, and his fingers tangle in her hair. “She’s my only sister. You’re going to have to do better than that,” he snickers.
“I’ll double it.”
Mikhail drops his hold on Aleksandra and strokes his jaw, considering the offer. “Two hundred thousand. Plus, I want a ten percent cut on your gross business assets and an apology for kidnapping my family.”
He’s insane, asking for a percentage of my business. I ignore his request for an apology. Dons don’t apologize or grovel, even when they are fucking wrong.
“Two hundred thousand, and we walk away without starting the next world war,” I threaten.
The Russian boss snorts at my suggestion. “War? You can’t win a war with the bratva. Don’t you remember what happened the last time, what we did to your families?” There’s a sneer on his face, a glint of glee in his eyes.
It’s evident he enjoys torturing women and children, helpless victims. He’d go to great lengths to hurt those closest to me, and I wouldn’t put it past him to do the same to Sophia and Liam.
But if survival means ignoring his remark and rescuing my children from the bratva, then I’ll have to lose this battle to win the war.