“Not the way I do things here,” he said. “I wouldn’t encourage that at my house. My men are as…wild as yours on their own time, but I don’t sanction that sort of thing in my home.”
“Do your men not want to fuck at parties?”
“I pay escorts to work my parties, but they don’t have to please the men if they don’t want to. They are more like companions, something beautiful to look at, and if they desire it, to be touched. But they’re not whores and I wouldn’t allow them to be treated as such.”
“Perhaps I’ll take that into consideration as something to change when I step into power,” I said. “Although I don’t particularly care if my men want to fuck whores, as long as they’re responsible and don’t cause any issues I have to deal with.”
Viktor’s eyes lingered over the map. “When I took over after my elder brother died, I transformed the way we lived, changed the culture. I believe you and I can bring our worlds into a better future, together, so that our sons may benefit.”
My son. The notion was foreign, but not unpleasant. A mental image of Olivia, her stomach swollen with my child, floated through my brain. I’d spent the last several years terrified by the possibility of accidentally getting a woman pregnant, but I didn’t have to feel that way any longer. An unexpected desire to see my wife like that rose in me and I blinked, shaking my head. It was too soon, she needed time to settle in before having to deal with a pregnancy.
“I hope our alliance continues beyond our generation. It could be incredibly beneficial,” I said.
“Speaking of our alliance,” Viktor said. “As soon as Romano is dead, I would like Sienna released to my care so I can bring her to Russia.”
“I already planned on sending her after New Year’s Eve,” I said. “And I would like to send my wife and my sister-in-law here if things go badly and I’m killed.”
Viktor took a slow drag of his cigarette and considered me for a moment. “If you die, Duran will also die. What am I to do with two Italian widows?”
I hated the thought of anyone else touching Olivia, but I had to make sure my wife was taken care of if Romano killed me.
“Surely you have soldiers who would marry them,” I said almost bitterly.
“Most of my soldiers want Russian women. It is possible they could be higher ranking mistresses.”
Rage flared in my chest at the thought, but I kept control of myself. “Not my wife.”
“But your sister-in-law?”
“Please, just do this for me. If we die, my only request is that you care for my wife and my brother’s wife.”
Viktor relented, dipping his head. “I’ll see that it’s done.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
There was a long silence and I began gathering up the blueprints and stacking them. Viktor took a sip of his vodka, his eyes lingering on the fire. There was an expression of longing on his face and it occurred to me suddenly that the renowned Russian godfather was lonely.
“You never married?” I asked.
His gaze flicked to mine and back down again. “No. I never married the woman I loved. She was my father’s mistress, it would have been a scandal. Her name was Yulia and she was not much older than I was…nineteen, I think. We had a secret love affair. My father was losing interest in her and he stopped sleeping with her so when he…when he found out she was pregnant, he knew she was cheating with someone. He found out I was the father.”
I kept silent, pretty sure I knew where the story was going. Viktor took another long drag from his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray on the table.
“He snapped her neck,” he said, his voice a little husky. “She was three months pregnant with my child.”
“Your father sounds like he was an asshole,” I said.
Viktor’s mouth twitched into a sad smile. “To put it lightly. I would have killed him, but a month after it happened, he was shot and killed by an assassin. They never found out who did it, but if I had to guess it was one of you Italians.”
“It’s quite possible,” I said carefully.
“It was the best fucking thing the Italians ever did for me,” Viktor said. He shook his head as if to clear it and sat in one of the armchairs, crossing his legs. “Tell me about Sienna?”
I loitered near the fireplace, a newly lit cigarette in my fingers. “Her parents died in a train crash, of all things, and I gained custody of her. She grew up at a Catholic school for girls.”
“What is her disposition?”
I considered the question, hesitant to answer truthfully. I knew it was best to be honest and upfront with him so there were no surprises later.