Ivan waited as a man brought out our tea. It steamed from the cup and he let the aroma fill the room before answering. His eyes bounced from me to the window where I knew men stood outside waiting for our visitor. “What’s all this about?”
His eyes appeared empty when he looked at me for a second and he shook his head.
The display was out of character. It wasn’t Ivan at all.
It was his disease.
We’d made deals with pharmaceutical companies and colleges to get him care, to get him medication to control the onset of his Alzheimer’s. Some of the studies and trials were working on him.
Still, there were moments.
He shook his head and shut his eyes. When they opened, the clarity was there again.
“This isn’t for me to decide anymore, Konstantin,” said Ivan. “My memory, my health, it comes first.”
“No. The bratva comes first.” Konstantin stood up, his deep voice guttural and full of fury. He dove into his navy suit jacket, the lapels much bigger than Ivan’s to accommodate his bulk.
Ivan rolled his eyes when Konstantin pointed a gun at him.
I didn’t even flinch when the gun swung my way. I’d done the dance one too many times with men I’d been with, with Ivan over the last few weeks training me. I could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t pull the trigger.
“Don’t point a gun at me if you don’t intend to shoot it,” I said and leaned back in my chair. “Ivan needs rest. I need a drink. You need to agree to all of this or your bratva can go to hell.”
“You go to hell,” he said, jerking the gun that pointed at my head.
“Send me, then.” I shrugged. “See how it works out for you.”
He glanced around and the man in the corner had a gun on him. The two men outside most likely did too. Maksim’s gun had most surely been pulled and aimed above my head also. Snipers were set up all over this house. They always would be and they knew to protect the family that owned it, that paid their bills.
My bratva knew. I held the key.
“The Stonewoods and the Armanellis are my family too,” I said. “They’ve already agreed. You don’t want to, we deal you out. Sign where the lawyers have said to and do as you’re told.”
“My earnings will be cut in half,” he ground out.
“You’ll only lose an eighth of your earnings. And that will grow back with the other contracts.” I combed a finger through my straightened dark hair. I pulled on the collar of my crop top. “You don’t have to trust me. Trust the process.”
“Where’s the process, huh? You come in and take all our money. Some woman we don’t even know.” He swung his gun toward Ivan. “You did this.”
“I should have you killed.” Ivan was growing tired. I could see by the way his shoulders slumped, by the way he’d forgotten where he was before.
“You should kill yourself,” said Konstantin. “After all this, you pretty much have. Giving the bratva over to her, leaving us to rot under the influence of Italians and CEOs.”
“Maybe we need to call them here then.” Ivan rubbed his temple.
Like dominos being perfectly aligned, I saw now that Rome would come. He’d arrive with them all and they’d make a statement with one of the last contracts we needed signed. The man had known even before I had how this world turned. It was a solid reminder of what I needed to learn.
“Call who?” asked Konstantin. Then he sneered at me. “Bastian? The man who fucks this girl when we aren’t looking, or is that Rome? They just agreed to this because they’re pussy whipped and I’m not about to be.”
I almost stood up and reacted. He did deserve to die. I needed to be bigger than my pride though. I needed to prove I was better than all of them by not killing the man immediately even though they thought a woman would be the first to indulge her emotions.
“Yes, I think we will call Bastian.” I took a deep, calming breath. I kept the show moving. This was one in a long line of many to come. We’d set an example with him, though.
“Bastian,” I purred into the phone while glaring at Konstantin. He could believe what he wanted about me at this point; he could roll in his hatred for me for all I cared. I wanted to make him squirm with discomfort and have the hate ooze from him. He’d still sign on the dotted line. “Ivan would like to have you over for tea.”
“Yeah, we figured that was going down. I’m bringing the crew. He’s trouble and I won’t be there without them.” Bastian said calmly to me.
I wouldn’t argue that. I responded, “If they are with you and would like to attend, that’s fine too.”