“Or maybe someone’s trying to pull us into a war we aren’t prepared to face,” Mikhail adds, looking just as reserved as Roman.
“Regardless, we can’t have this. Which is why we’re trying to nip it before the problem gets worse.” Roman says, leaving noroom for debate. “After everything went down with Maxim and Igor, these hits are too suspicious to ignore.”
Glancing between them, I’m well aware of how serious something like this is, even through my buzz. “What, are you thinking it’s the Balakins?”
Roman nods once. “We don’t have proof yet, but it lines up. Igor had a son, and we know full well that when you cut a pakhan down, a son is quick to take his place.”
“And if he has taken up the mantle?”
“Then we cut his legs out from under him before he has the chance to make any significant progress in the city. They’re New York rats…they don’t belong here.”
Mikhail crosses his arms and leans against the half wall beside him. “What remains of the Balakin ranks would’ve been sent into chaos after we devastated them and Igor. And now, we can only assume Yuri has filled those shoes and is trying to strengthen that empire again.”
That’s easy enough to believe.
A moment of silence lingers between us, and I watch how Roman’s expression doesn’t falter for even a moment.
“Alright…so why did you come here personally to tell me this?” I ask, not seeing how this is an urgent matter. “This sounds like something Mikhail or Nikolai would handle.”
Roman’s gaze sharpens. “Because they already have their jobs. And yours is to keep an eye on Katya.”
My eye nearly twitches. “The Balakin girl?”
“Yes. She’s in Brooklyn, and that’s where you’re heading.”
A note of incredulity enters my words. “You want me to go across the country to babysit her?”
“Surveilher,” he corrects.
“It’s the same thing.”
“She’s Igor’s daughter, and if the Balakins are behind this, then she could be useful. She might even be involved. But regardless, we need to know what her angle is and if she’s a potential threat,” Mikhail comments, using his own authority.
“And you’re sending me to do it?” I scoff, shaking my head while I gesture to the others. “You probably have one of them keeping tabs on Yuri. Someone else infiltrating their trade, and I’m assuming Nikolai will be breaking some noses. And I’m the one being sent to watch some girl?”
Roman sighs. “Sergey—”
“I’m being serious,” I utter, cutting him off. “Do you want me to make sure she leaves the house okay? Braid her hair, maybe take her shopping while I’m at it?”
Roman’s jaw clenches again, but his tone stays even. “I don’t care what the hell you do as long as we have eyes on her. You’ll blend in better than the rest of us. She won’t suspect you.”
“So, in other words, I’m the one you think is useless enough to waste on this job.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what you meant,” I mumble, unsure of just how much the alcohol is talking in this moment.
Roman pulls in a deep breath like he’s holding himself back from snapping, but Mikhail puts a hand on his shoulder before he has the chance, keeping his eyes on me.
“This isn’t about proving anything or snubbing anyone,” he begins, tone vaguely gentler than before. “It’s about figuring out what the Balakins are planning before they strike. Keepingtabs on the girl is part of it. Do this right, and maybe you’ll get more jobs that seem worthwhile in your eyes.”
I furrow my brows at him. “More what? Babysitting assignments?”
Roman’s gaze hardens. “Sergey. Enough.”
Holding his stare for a long beat, I want to argue. I want to continue pushing my luck just to make a point, but I know how this will end. Roman always gets his way, as is always the case for someone in his position.
Biting back the other words threatening to spill, I take a breath.
