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I nod. “He’s saying he hasn’t turned a profit this quarter. He’s not investing as much anywhere, not just with us.”

“Maybe that’s true?”

“Except it’s not,” I snap. “You don’t think I have men on that fucker watching his every move? I have someone on the inside. The Ivanovs are swimming in profits. It’s not a reason; it’s a lie.”

“The underworld won’t know that,” Yulian points out.

“Open your eyes, little brother. It doesn’t matter what the underworld knows. The point is, Ivanov’s allies will know. And if they’re coalescing—"

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“Why not?”

“Rodion doesn’t have anyone to hand the reins over to," Yulian reminds me.

“He has a nephew,” I say. “Two, in fact.”

Yulian scoffs. “There’s no way. He might as well give it to the first guy he sees on the street with a friendly face.”

“The point is, the man believes I murdered his precious little princess. He’s not going to hand over his empire to me. In fact, I doubt he wants me to keep control of my own empire.”

“He’s not going to declare an all-out war on you, brother,” Yulian says somberly. “You’re too powerful. He knows that.”

“Does he? I'm not sure the old man is thinking straight.”

“Let me speak to him,” Yulian says suddenly.

I stop short. “You want to talk to Rodion Ivanov?”

“Why not?” he asks. “I may not know the man as well as you do. But I got along with his daughter a fuck-ton better than you did.”

“Only because you weren’t married to the bitch.”

“Whatever the reason, I can make him see sense. I can make him realize that his grief is clouding his judgment. I can make him see that crossing the Stepanov Bratva is not going to be in his best interests.”

I glance at Lev to see what he thinks about this. He seems intrigued, but I’m not convinced. “No offense, little brother, but you lack subtlety.”

Annoyance flickers across his face. “You underestimate me.”

“Only because I know you.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll prove you wrong.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say. Mostly because I’m done discussing it.

I don’t want to engage Rodion’s misplaced anger, but if he keeps pushing me, I will. Maybe it’s the excuse I need to get the ball rolling on cutting ties with the Ivanovs.

That gets me thinking. “When is the signing for the new contract?” I ask.

“A week from now,” Lev says.

I nod. “Call Flemming. Tell him I’m interested in cutting a new deal.”

“What new deal?” Yulian asks.

“One that doesn’t involve the Ivanovs.”

“We’ve gone in on that deal with the Ivanovs for ten goddamn years," my brother snaps.


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