No one else looks at him. But everyone is listening.
“Well?”
When he finds his bearings, he straightens his back and replies, “Vorobyov has defected. He has gone to seek out Kiril and whatever Kiril might be planning.”
Agitation slams into my side like a truck.
Defection. One of my brigadiers has chosen to throw in his lot with Kiril. To be fair, I did expect this when I demanded Kiril’s stars. But I didn’t think it would happen so quickly. A surge of realization rushes through me.
I was too rash at the wedding. I should have ejected Kiril, but let him keep his stars.
Now that he’s starless, the only thing that can restore his honor is vengeance. It was a foolish action taken in a heated moment. And now…
Failure. Furious, flesh-eatingfailure.
Defection is a sin greater than murder. It’s a sign ofweakness.
My brigadiers aren’t keeping their silence out of a sense of fear or loyalty. They simply don’t think I will react like a good Pakhan should.
They think I’ll react like a weaker man.
I calm myself and nod for Gennadiy to sit down. He sinks into his chair like a deflated balloon. His face returns to an inscrutable mask. I survey each man sitting in front of me.
Which one of you is next to go?I run my hand over the surface of the table.We can’t afford anymore losses.
I sound as nonchalant as possible as I ask, “Is anyone else interested in defecting?”
A hailstorm could rip through the room and nobody would move an inch. At least there is stillsomerespect left among them.
I swipe dust from the table. “No one?”
Kostya is first to speak. “No, Pavel Sergeyevich. Never.”
“Yet two already have.”
“You have our allegiance,” Gennadiy states proudly. “All of us, Pavel Sergeyevich.”
A tidal wave of nods erupts throughout the room. I fixate on each face, searching for their loyalty. They hold their emotions close to their chest, and I have no choice but to trust them.
Besides, there are bigger problems than a couple of defectors.
“Now then.” I lean back. “This war with Cardona is about to heat up.”
That gets their attention. Since my father’s death, Felix Cardona has been nibbling at the edges. And now, with Kiril and Vorobyov’s defection, it’ll only be a matter of time before one of us escalates an already simmering conflict:
He will because he can.
I will because I must.
“Cardona knows I hold something that could wreck him,” I say. “For nineteen years, he thought the Bernadetti kids were off the board. Irrelevant if not dead. Now that they’re both alive and one is married tome,things have changed.So now, he’ll come gunning forus.”
A circle of chuckles rises up around the table along with a few whispered swears. And just like that, the defections are temporarily forgotten. The primal threat of violence is a wonderful glue to hold the Bratva together.
“Right now,” I continue. “Cardona thinks that we’re fighting to put Jonas Bernadetti on the throne of the Citta Nostra.”
Eye rolls amid some choice words for Jonas Bernadetti. The man is an embarrassment who has no control over his own vices. Were it not for Liya’s pleas to me, my brigadiers would’ve shown Jonas the consequences of disrupting my wedding.
No doubt Kiril thought the same way. And unfortunately, so must Vorobyov. But neither of them had the patience to listen to the rest of the plan.