Matteo finally speaks. “Your brother.”
“Yes.”
“He’s been busy,” Giovanni says, smirking. “Word from Naples is he’s trying to rebuild trade through Taranto. You’d know better than anyone, he doesn’t have your father’s discipline, but he’s got his temper.”
“That temper almost got me killed,” I say flatly. “Three men outside my club last week. All dead.”
Giovanni whistles softly. “I see the Volkov family still handles disputes personally.”
Artem gives a faint smile from behind them. “He’s nothing if not hands-on.”
Giovanni nods. “So, what do you want from us? I thought Russians were able to handle their own business.”
“I want stability,” I say. “If my brother is trying to rebuild from Italy, I need to know who’s giving him resources. Who’s protecting his routes? You’ve both got men watching every port worth knowing about. I want names, locations, and leverage.”
“What makes you think he’s doing anything in Italy?”
I stare at him because my intel tells me.
He’s taken my contacts and is trying to use them with no rapport.
“If your brother is running deals out of Naples,” Giovanni finally says. “It’s not with me.”
“Is that why you have a meeting with him next week?”
His expression hardens at my callout. “You’re spying on menow, Volkov?”
“I am when you’ve so easily accepted the fact that I’m out of the Miami mob. I was your only contact here, and now you’re planning to work with the man who threw me out.”
“It’s business.”
“It’s loyalty,” I rebuke a bit sharply. “I thought you Italians had that. Family and all.”
“You’re not family.”
“No, but I’m the ‘all’. I’ve built a relationship with your father. It was to work withme.”
He lifts his shoulders dismissively. “It was with the head of the Volkov mob.”
I don’t move or blink, letting Giovanni start shifting in his seat.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say evenly. “The head of the Volkov mob is a placeholder. The influence and respect don’t disappear because my brother decided to sit in my chair.”
Giovanni leans back, testing me. “You sure about that? From where I’m standing, your brother’s the one making calls.”
“From where you’re standing,” I correct, “you’re one bad shipment away from losing your Miami port access.”
That gets his attention.
His smirk falters, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
“You think aligning with Nikolai gives you security? He’s unstable. He’ll promise you profit and burn the whole thing down if you look at him wrong.”
Giovanni’s partner, Marco, exchanges an uneasy look with him.
“Don’t mistake my position for weakness,” I continue. “I might not be the one signing the checks right now, but I still have men, and I still have reach. And unlike my brother, I don’t need a throne to remind people who I am.”
The room goes still, and Giovanni clears his throat before glaring at me. “You’re threatening us, Volkov?”
