“And why would I do that, Nephew?” I asked without confirming or denying anything.
Kostya gave me a wide, shit-eating grin. “Because Artem and Gregor have been at each other’s throats since Artem got here. And they’ve both been trying to lead the family together but refusing to work together.”
“And this concerns me, why?”
“Because now they are united, in a way they’ve never been before.” He gave me a long look, setting his fork down for a moment. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, am I right?”
I hid my grin behind my coffee cup, masking satisfaction like it was another weapon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If Artem and Gregor can’t get their shit together, then I’m just going to have to get it together for them.”
“You know, some would argue that the responsible and smart thing to do would be just to talk to them and tell them to get their heads out of their asses.”
I snorted a laugh, just picturing how that conversation would go. “Both Artem and Gregor are too fucking full of themselves and too goddamn stubborn to ever do what they are told. So are you, and so are Damien and Roman.”
“Not Pavel?”
“Pavel is the only one of you who has more common sense than arrogance,” I said. “But think about it. Have you ever told your brother to do something?”
“Yes,” he answered.
I stabbed another piece of fish with my fork and pointed it at him. “How did that work out for you?” I popped the fish in my mouth, enjoying the smoky, subtle flavors as Kostya thought it over.
“I see your point, but you had no interest in running this side of the operations of the family before.”
“And I still don’t,” I said. “Our family works because we have two distinct pillars: the businesses that survive in the light, and the ones that thrive in the darkness. If one arm isn’t thriving, then the other arm can’t survive. I’m simply here to make sure the balance is maintained.”
“And to do that, you need to kidnap a senator’s daughter and put a bomb around her neck? That seems a tad...dramatic.”
“It’s only dramatic if it goes off,” I said.
“Which can never happen, because the technology doesn’t exist,” Kostya said, leaning back in his chair before popping a piece of greasy bacon in his mouth and groaning.
“Do you want me to leave you and the bacon alone?”
“Don’t change the subject,” Kostya retorted. His eyes sharpened, playful tone slipping for a moment. “Why the girl? What did she do?”
“Nothing,” I said, wanting to get off the subject of Anna as quickly as fucking possible. “It’s her mother, and how none of you have kept her in line.”
“Okay, so that would explain the kidnapping, but what about the necklace? And I’ve heard that you’ve had her here overnight? Damian even said that you carried her out of the Kennedy Center when she was upset. Artem mentioned you put yourself between the senator and her daughter. That you were protecting the girl. Now correct me if I’m wrong, Uncle, but don’t you usually want to put the bomb closest to the target?”
“As you pointed out, the explosives don’t work.” I didn’t like him asking me about Anna, and I certainly did not need my hypocrisy pointed out to me. The table felt suddenly too small.
Kostya gave a low hum in the back of his throat before piling some scrambled eggs and caviar on a bellini and then sprinklingit with hash browns. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I was pretty sure it was a culinary sin.
“So what went wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing has gone wrong,” I said. “The vote is tomorrow, and I reminded the senator last night exactly why she should vote the way we paid her to.”
“Right, but you left the Kennedy Center last night with a crying woman in your arms. From what I’ve heard, she didn’t go home until this morning. I’ve never known you to mix business and pleasure before.”
“Are you watching me, Nephew?”
A smile curled Kostya’s lips as he lifted his own cup of coffee. “You come back with no warning after I haven’t seen you in years, and you’re stirring the shit for the sake of stirring the shit. Of course, I’m watching you. This is going to either blow up spectacularly or be one of the most entertaining things I’ve ever seen.”
“Nothing is going wrong. Everything’s right on track as I planned,” I said as I reached for a piece of the bacon. “I am in control.”
Control was the only thing that kept me from drowning.
“So tell me about the girl.”
