My gaze ping-ponged between the two. “Did anybody have a good parent other than me?”
Luka sighed and tapped the back of his hand against the window. “Not preparing us for much in the mob if you aren’t constantly training for the worst.”
“If we didn’t only have the worst, maybe we’d have better.” The statement was more to myself than both of them.
“I agree.” Maksim looked both ways and behind us before he turned down an alley and wove through a few streets. He then veered onto the highway and we started our real drive to Ivan’s. He thought mixing up his routes would help deter followers but I was sure it didn’t. “It’s why I believe in you. I need you to believe in me too.”
“I’m doing the best I can.” I dragged a hand over my face. “Let’s talk about something else. Something light.”
I closed my eyes as we rode and Maksim listed off things we needed to make decisions on. “Nico and his wife are most likely going into witness protection. I said we could give them a cut of my earnings for the next few years to help ease the transition. Oh, also, give Akim money for his son.”
“You’ll run out of money at this rate,” advised Luka.
“I never had money before. What do I need it for now?”
Maksim laughed. “Got a point there.”
“You weren’t leading the bratva before,” said Luka. “They expect a certain level of financial security.”
“And they’ll get it. Some will get even more because of the decisions I make. So everyone can thank me. If they don’t want to, they can keep their mouth shut.”
“Ah, that’s the type of leadership I’m used to.” He combed a hand through his thick brown hair.
“It seems to be the only leadership anyone listens to around here.” The statement was petty but I was tired. This meeting was about to exhaust me more.
We pulled up to the beautiful white home and were greeted with an open door. Ivan waited for us at his dining room table, Konstantin, the head of the Miami bratva sitting there with him. Neither stood for me the last to be seated.
He didn’t greet us or even mention Luka being there, he simply motioned toward me. “Begin with the logistics, Katalina.”
I didn’t hesitate. I dove right in like we had at the other meetings. The lawyers fanned out to hand out the contracts and then exited the room while I continued talking.
The contracts for partnerships between businesses, for security, and for making most of our income and businesses legal, which most importantly took trafficking off the table, needed to be solidified and signed off today by the one man at the table. He was a leader of the bratva in Miami, an extremely wealthy one who didn’t ever want to change his way, I was told.
Maksim and Luka stared at me in shock as I finished. Maksim got up and came to stand behind me, like he knew I might need the damn security.
“I know this is the first time you’re hearing this, but it has to be done,” I stated while the older man across the table stared at the document in silence.
Ivan motioned toward a man standing in the corner. “I’ll need a beverage. Get us some tea.”
My stomach rolled at the thought. “Water for me only.”
I’d been disgusted at even the thought of water or food or drink lately. I wanted to focus on this family, on moving forward. The only thing that could occupy my thoughts was Rome or talk of these contracts. Nothing else was important. My dream, our organization, our plans consumed everything in my mind.
The closer you got to a goal, to the finish line, the more you wanted it. I was so close, it felt like the sun was right up against my skin. It burned in me, shined all around me, and was ready to kill me if I didn’t do something about it.
“Katalina, things like this take time.” Ivan shook his head and tsked like my negotiation was too fast, frivolous, not smart.
“And every child sold takes a life.”
“They aren’t our children,” the man from Miami, Konstantin, stated. He smiled and the hairs on his face folded into his wrinkles. I wanted to burn each one off slowly, hold a lighter to them and watch them flare. That man had stared at me from the second I’d arrived at the funeral and watched me like I was a piece of meat. He didn't want to end sex trafficking, because he was a part of it, because he didn't see where he could earn just as much money, and he probably enjoyed it.
“Do you have children?”
His beady eyes narrowed, the blue in them as cold as ice. “Do you?”
“Yes.” My heart swelled, thinking of the girl that I had met so long ago at Marvin’s, how her eyes looked dead inside and mirrored my own. “They are my children. They are my sisters and my brothers. They’re mothers and daughters. This isn’t a plantation from years ago. We aren’t selling slaves or humans or sex trafficking them. We find another way.”
His hand slammed down on the table. “You don’t get to come in here and change everything.” Spit flew from his mouth while he talked. “Ivan! This is ridiculous.”