“I’m reminding you of history. You’ve worked with me for years. You know how I handle disloyalty.”
His fingers twitch on the table, but he says nothing.
Good.
I sit back, calm again, almost bored. “Now, about that meeting in Naples,” I say, the edge returning to my tone. “You’re going to cancel it. Or, better yet, reschedule it with me on the call. You’ll tell Nikolai you don’t negotiate with the shadow of a man.”
Giovanni’s jaw works. “And if I don’t?”
I give him a faint smile. “Then you’ll find out how much business you can do without your father’s favorite port manager. Don’t forget, you owe your clean routes to me. And loyalty, Giovanni, doesn’t expire just because I stopped pretending to care about the title.”
Matteo studies me quietly. “And in return?”
“In return, you get what you’ve always wanted from the Volkov family—protection over your product, silence, and guaranteed routes through Miami. You help me end Nikolai’s expansion before it starts, and every shipment through my territory moves untouched.”
Giovanni swirls his drink. “That’s a tempting offer, Volkov. But tell me… why should we believe that your brother won’t win this war? He’s already got sympathy in Italy. Your father’s old men are loyal to blood, not strategy.”
I let a smile curl just enough to be dangerous. “Because my brother’s desperate. And desperate men make mistakes. I make plans.”
“Still your father’s son, I see.”
“I’m nothing like my father,” I say.
Matteo lifts his glass in acknowledgment. “No. You’re colder.”
I bow my head, accepting the compliment, and allow the two of them to figure shit out for themselves.
“We can help,” Giovanni says. “But not for free.”
“I didn’t expect charity. However, I’m not paying you for something that should already be mine.”
“Then you won’t be surprised when I ask for something personal.”
I wait.
“There’s talk,” Giovanni says, “about the girl. Beautiful, I hear. Brave, too. They say she stood up to you. That she made you bleed.” He grins wider. “That’s rare, Volkov. No one’s seen you rattled like that.”
“Rattled? That’s foreplay, Santoro.”
“She’s a distraction,” Matteo adds. “And distractions get men killed.”
“Careful,” Artem mutters. “We didn’t ask for relationship advice.”
“We’re only saying what others won’t,” Giovanni states. “You ask for loyalty and war support, but you’ve got a woman upstairs who allegedly makes you weak. If I’m going to risk my ships and my men, I need to know you’re not going to throw all that away for a girl.”
The air goes still, and Artem even stops moving to see how I’m going to react.
“Don’t mistake possession for weakness,” I say quietly. “What’s mine stays mine. She’s not leverage, and she’s not a liability. She’s an incentive.”
Matteo looks intrigued. “Incentive?”
“An heir.”
Giovanni studies me again, then nods. “Fair enough. You’ve got your backup, Volkov. Our men will watch our ports. Any new buyers your brother recruits, we’ll intercept and report back.”
“Good,” I say. “And keep the money trail clean. I don’t want him sniffing you out before I move.”
He nods. “When’s your move?”
