His jaw clenches. “We’re entering into a war we can’t win based on firepower alone.”
“Can’t? You know I don’t like that word.”
“No, but you must admit, we’re outnumbered.”
I tap my fingers rhythmically on the hardwood desk, trying to come up with a plan. “We’re outnumbered, but I have an asset that may prove useful yet.” I stand, buttoning up my jacket. And I walk around Konstantin, heading out of my office.
“Where are you going, sir?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “To pay our prisoner a visit.”
“Do you need me to come with you?”
I shake my head. “No, I need you to get the men ready for war. I won’t cower away or run scared because of that bastard’s tactics.”
Konstantin bows his head. “Be careful. There’s a hefty price on your head.”
“I’d like to see someone try to take it.” I wink at him. In the years since I inherited the role of Pakhan from my father, many men have tried to bring me down and steal my position, all have failed. I have two scars to prove it from the one man that got closest, my cousin Leonid.One across my eye and the other on the left side of my chest.
He died a slow and painful death for trying and for scarring me. I crack my neck as the tension builds and walk out of my study, heading toward the garage where my Ferrari is parked.
I get into the sports car and press the button to open the automatic garage door, putting the keys into the ignition and turning them.
The roar of the engine and the vibrations running through my body have a calming effect as I pull out of it and down the driveway, racing toward Moscow’s outer limits where I’m hiding Anya.
It’s reckless to take my own car there, but I’m in a reckless mood. Grigory is too cocky to look for me in his own backyard.
* * *
The descentinto the basement of the restaurant feels different this time around. As if the woman down at the bottom is calling me, drawing me in. Like a siren luring her prey to be devoured. At least that’s how it feels, even if it’s ridiculous.
Anya Lebedev is no threat to me. She’s merely a pawn in a game of chess. Even so, my footsteps falter as I get to the old rotten door she’s hidden away behind, my heart pounding erratically against my rib cage. I narrow my eyes.
Come on, Valery. She’s just a little girl.
Reaching for the handle of the door, I push it open and it feels like the oxygen is pulled out of the room the moment I set eyes on her.
She’s looking right at me, as if she heard me coming. Perhaps she did.
I don’t know how much you can hear down here.
A flash of relief enters those light blue eyes of hers. “At last. I have a proposition for you, Valery.”
My name spoken from her lips sends tension coiling through my veins and turning them to stone. I glare at her, working my jaw that she was the first to speak and somehow has gleamed information about my identity. If it was that rookie, Oleg, I’ll wring his neck.
Marching forward, I close the gap between us and loom over her. “Who told you my name?”
Anya shakes her head. “No one. I figured it out.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I growl.
Her eyes widen. “I’m not. You are the only man ballsy enough to go head to head with my father like this.”
She’s not wrong, but I hate that she figured it out so easily.
“And that’s why I have a proposition for you.”
“Did I say I wanted a proposition from you?”