****
“You sure about this, Marco? We could have the meeting another day,” Ryker said from the driver’s seat.
“I’m sure. Don’t ask me again,” he said.
Next to Ryker, Matthias looked contemplative, brooding as usual. Marco was surprised Matthias volunteered to come in the first place because he usually didn’t like showing his face to strangers. His brother also wore a suit and strapped on his favorite weapons—which said a good deal.
Both Ryker and Matthias didn’t approve of him setting up the meet with Russians tonight. Matthias thought it was a reckless decision but he shut up when Marco reminded him who was the boss.
Fuck. Marco had sworn off being reckless and he seldom flaunted the boss card. He wasn’t in his best state of mind ever since he found out Lila had been in contact with her ex. He ignored the two messages she sent him that day.
Gino had caught a glimpse of her phone screen earlier that lunch and was the one to tell him. Gino believed Lila wasn’t hiding it from him on purpose, that she was probably afraid to tell him the truth. Marco had her watched every day. John coming out of the woodwork was probably a new development.
Still, Marco wished she’d told him earlier, and she got mad about him moving her stuff? He gritted his teeth.
Matthias got off the phone with someone, probably Lorenzo and Johnny from the other car. “Francesco says the hotel’s secure. The Russians are already there.”
“Good.”
They arrived at their destination—the Royal Vista Hotel, half an hour later. Marco and Matthias got out while Ryker found a parking spot. Five of their men emerged from their cars and joined them.
“This is a business meeting,” he said. “But stay on your toes. Anything can happen.”
A slender blonde wearing a nametag that proclaimed her as the assistant manager met them at the door. “Good evening, Mr. Severin, my name is Linda. Mr. Popov and his party are waiting for you at the conference room on the second floor. I’ll show you the way.”
“Please do,” he answered. His men had already scoped the place out and didn’t find any threats. The Royal Vista Hotel was also located on neutral territory, so it would be foolish of Popov and the others to try anything underhanded.
Privately, Marco itched for a fight. To get his hands bloody. He knew the head of the Familia shouldn’t be running headfirst into violence, but he needed to unwind. To let out his stress. After sating his thirst for bloodlust, he’d head back to Lila. They’d sit down and have a proper conversation. Sort things out.
Marco knew she wasn’t cheating on him or anything like that. He just didn’t like the fact they were hiding secrets from each other.
Linda led their party past the reception area, inside an elevator, and out the second floor. The entire space was emptied out. No signs of other guests and Marco bet it would be kept that way.
Two unfriendly members of the Bratva, evident by their striking black tattoos, stood outside the doors. Both carried rifles openly. Linda quickly left them to conduct their business.
“No weapons,” one of them said.
His men began to argue but he raised a hand. Marco traded a look with Matthias. As if Marco would suddenly hand over his gun and knives to the enemy. The Bratva liked to play dirty. This could still very well be a trap. Marco could still back away and reschedule another meeting, but he’d never been one to go back on his word. If the Russians wanted blood, then he’d give it to them.
“What insurance do we have that none of your bosses carry any weapons?” Marco asked the thug.
The two men traded looks just as the door to the conference room opened and a familiar face peered out at them.
“Lubov, relax. These fine gentlemen will comply, won’t you?” said an oily voice.
“Blinov,” Max greeted, hiding his distaste. Blinov was a balding man in his mid-forties and was the official spokesperson for the rest of the Bratva’s top brass. Marco went on, “I don’t see the other weapons surrendered by Popov and the others. I won’t let my men or myself enter that room unarmed, you understand?”
Blinov fiddled with his tie and started sweating profusely. The lackey didn’t seem to know what to say or do next. Blinov should know better than try to screw with him. Marco didn’t take orders from anyone, especially not lowlifes who repeatedly underestimated the Severin Familia.
“I understand,” Blinov said, blinking rapidly. Was the bastard high or something?
“I’ll leave one of my men here. Won’t be a problem, no?” Marco made it sound like a demand, not a question. Gut instinct told Marco there wouldn’t be any negotiations tonight.
“Not a problem,” Blinov agreed. The man continued playing with his tie.
A nervous gesture? Marco knew this truce was too good to be true.
“Please, come right in.” Blinov gestured to the doors. From this angle, Marco couldn’t see a familiar face.