I hung up and stared at the old man. Konstantin holstered his weapon and sat down while he grumbled, “I guess we wait and drink tea.”
The clock ticked. The birds chirped outside. Time passed with only tension making noise in the room. It didn’t take long, an indication that Cade was tracking me and that they were in the area, prepared for all of this. I didn’t care.
This was the first step of legalizing the bratva. We did this my way if I ruled and we did it by making allies, by weeding out illegal trafficking, by saving lives instead of ruining them. The men would have to fall in line. We did what I said, what I believed in, what I knew would ultimately benefit us.
Bastian, Rome, and Dante walked in after half an hour of the two men sipping tea and me water. They all stood tall in their black Armani suits. I knew the brand because I’d been with them and Mario at the boutiques in the past. Rome, though, even in the relaxed way he walked, overpowered their presence in the room.
Or maybe I just felt it. This was the first time he’d attended a meeting since the funeral with Bastian. I should have been focused on the contract, on getting that signature, and making all this work. Instead, that man’s presence suffocated my thoughts of anything else. It was like his grip on my neck. The shivers down my back weren’t from the cold. The darkness in his eyes penetrated even the deepest parts of my soul.
His jawline was flexed and when he made eye contact with me, it popped.
“Glad you could all make it,” I murmured.
Bastian and Dante smiled and took a seat at the table as Ivan waved them in. Dante unbuttoned his suit jacket and Bastian nodded when the corner man offered tea.
Rome stood behind them both, arms crossed.
“Would you like to sit?” Ivan motioned toward the empty chair near me.
“I’ll stand,” he said and didn’t glance my way again.
My mind should have been focused on the contract, focused on making each partner accountable. Instead, I willed him to look my way again. I wanted to peel back his hard exterior, figure out why he wouldn’t turn his face toward me.
“Suit yourself,” Ivan replied and stood. “This isn’t my choice. I’m tired. You all figure it out. I’ll be retiring now.”
The room stilled. No one said a word as Ivan’s chair scraped loudly on the wooden floor. We all stared at him in disbelief.
Ivan had sat with me for every meeting from the beginning. Now, he appeared worn out, sunken in and deflated.
He didn’t say another word, just turned on his leather loafers and disappeared down the hall.
“Well, I guess you’ll lead the bratva to hell without him then,” Konstantin mumbled.
“If you’ll sign on the dotted line, we won’t go anywhere near hell,” I said. “If you won’t, I’ll drag you there and watch you burn.”
“You warn me like you can do a thing.” He smiled at the men who sat there. “I’m not scared of any of you.”
“We don’t want you scared, Konstantin. We want you willing. This partnership will work better with everyone fully involved.”
“I don’t work well with pussies.” He motioned toward me.
The low hum that rolled through the room made me clench my thighs. Rome’s anger affected me in a way that it shouldn’t have. I stared at him, hoping to see some emotion other than fury cross his face.
“Are you calling me a pussy or these men?” I was taunting him, knowing he would never refer to the Armanellis like that.
“I swear to God, I am going to kill you,” Konstantin whispered, but it was loud enough for us all to hear.
Maybe we should’ve known that Rome wasn’t in the right mindset. His monster was clamoring to get out. The rage had consumed him, rage over something I wasn’t exactly sure of.
He pulled his gun and shoved it into Konstantin’s head. The man's eyes bulged and his hand flew to his own gun. He never got to it though because Rome was too fast. He took the man's hand and twisted it until we saw his wrist break. The pop of the bone was loud but even Ivan must have heard Konstantin’s blood curdling scream from the other side of the house.
“I'm not here to play games or to waste my time,” Rome said, his face devoid of emotion. “Sign the papers.”
“They won’t be legally binding,” whimpered Konstantin, “considering that I am being forced into putting my signature on paper. “
“Would you like me to give you a choice?”
“I deserve a choice, don’t I?”