“Exactly,” I reply. “If anything feels off, we go dark and move to Plan B. Remember: the Daniloscannotfuck this up for us.”
Again, Luka hesitates before speaking up. “What if they hit the convoy early? We’ve only got one backup team in place.”
“Good eye.” I point to the corner of the blueprint. “That’s why we keep a second unit staged two blocks out. One way or another, the deal goes down.”
Thevorynod. Some, miraculously, even ask questions. I take it as a sign of good faith, a spark of loyalty in my leadership. Whatever their misgivings with me as their newpakhan,they’re giving me their trust for now. That’s all I need.
Finally, Ivan speaks up. “And if the Danilos attack the convoy?” he asks. “What then?”
“We blow them to fucking bits.” My tone hardens. “No survivors.”
“Even if a major player like Anatoli shows up?”
I try to keep the snarl off my face. Whenever that psycho’s name comes up, I always end up with my teeth bared, itching to snap shut around his throat. If this were the animal kingdom, that’s how it would go down: one of us with blood on our fangs, the other left behind as food for the vultures.
Humans aren’t any different. We just like to pretend we are. Sure, we use bullets instead of our bodies, but that’s all the difference there is. Eventually, blood always spills, and it isn’t any prettier coated in the smell of gunpowder.
“If Anatoli shows up,” I spit, “we take him out. Same as any other rat.”
“That’s bold.” Ivan steeples his fingers. “Too bold, perhaps.”
“It’s what’s required.” I know my uncle doesn’t mean to challenge me publicly, but his knack for diplomacy is really skewing the point of this meeting. “They didn’t hesitate to take a shot at my father. At Dimitri. If we’re not willing to show the same boldness, we’re already dead in the water.”
Murmurs of assent flutter around the table. Good. Anatoli Danilo has always been a thorn in our side, and bad for business to boot. If he dies in this process, so much the better for all of us.
We keep going over the details of the plan. And yet, even while my sole focus should be on my Bratva, I can’t help my mind drifting back to what happened in my bedroom a few hours ago. To Sima.
“I couldn’t help it. It was the first time. No one had ever touched me there.”
A virgin. The daughter of my mortal enemy—and a fuckingvirgin. On one hand, I can’t stop picturing her writhing under me, flushed, panting.
On the other hand, the knot of guilt in my chest doesn’t feel like it’s planning to go away anytime soon. I’m not new to using people, but it’s the first time I’ve ever used an innocent in this way. I’m about to throw her into a war she doesn’t even realize she’s a part of yet, and fuck her over in the process.
Literallyfuck her over, too.
But it’s too late for second-guessing. I need to cement my leadership. Any time a boss dies or steps down, the power vacuum is inevitable. And a power vacuum in a Bratva is basically an invitation for every ambitious little fucker with a gun to try and carve out a piece for themselves.
I can’t afford to look weak—not now.
I have to keep moving. I can’t hesitate. Hesitation is what gets you killed.
As we disperse, Mikhael steps close to me, one hand on my shoulder. “We can’t afford to look weak, cuz. If people start thinking the Gubarev Bratva is leaderless, we’ll start losing allies, fast.”
I glance at him. What he’s doing here is not subtle. Mikhael has always had ambition. And now, with the seat still warm, he’s testing the waters.
I was never supposed to be the one on the throne. That was Dimitri’s path. My father molded him for it, gave him the education, the grooming, the responsibilities. I was the blade, not the crown. The weapon they pointed when they needed someone cut down.
Now here I am, holding the reins while the old guard watches from the shadows, waiting to see if I stumble.
Mikhael is waiting, too.
“We’re not weak,cuz.” I turn around to face him and brush his hand off my shoulder. “Our Bratva is just as strong now as when your uncle was alive. Stronger, even. I’m not bound by his restraint.”
Mikhael nods, pretending like he doesn’t know I just threatened him. But his eyes flash. “Sure thing, cuz. Whatever you say.”
I’ll have to keep him under close watch. The line between ambition and betrayal is razor-thin, and I’m not in the mood to bleed.
That’s why I need to succeed. I’ll bring the Danilos down once and for all, then secure my throne with blood and steel and the little runaway princess in my bed.
