I hesitated for a second. “Not anymore.”
“Do you have my money?” Anatoli asked Alexei.
“Right here.” He tapped on the briefcase.
Anatoli reached out to take it, but Alexei withdrew his hand.
“Ah-ah, not so fast, pretty boy.” He chuckled. “You know how this works.”
“What? You don’t trust me?”
“A man who turns on his own brothers for money shouldn’t be trusted.”
“Spare me the philosophy,” Anatoli said, dipping his hand into his pocket. “You’re no better than I am.” He revealed a flash drive. “I went through a lot of trouble for this.”
“And you will be greatly compensated,” Alexei replied, giving his briefcase a slight wave.
A smug smirk tugged at the corners of Anatoli’s mouth. “Everything you need to know about the Bratva is on here.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Now, hand over the case.”
Alexei laughed lightly. “There’s only one of you, and there are four of us, Anatoli. Don’t be stupid.”
A glimpse of fear flashed across his features, and he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “Are you threatening me?”
His expression darkened. “Hand over the file.”
Anatoli’s hand trembled slightly, and just as he was about to do as he was told, I intervened.
They first heard my voice as I waltzed out of the shadows with slow, measured steps. “You see, the problem with thieves is that they don’t trust each other.”
Rattled, all five of them turned in my direction, Alexei’s men already pointing the weapons at me. However, before anyone could make any silly moves, my men stormed out of the darkness, guns loaded, aimed, and ready to fire.
I lit a cigarette as I approached them, my footsteps cutting through the silence. My lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, and I enjoyed their fear like a cat savoring a trapped mouse.
“Boss,” Anatoli called my attention, his voice shaking. “I know how this looks. But…but…it’s not—it’s not what you think.”
I didn’t yell, didn’t frown, didn’t lose my temper or feel betrayed. No. I was calm. No haste, no threats—just my intimidating presence. The kind that made men forget how to breathe.
“Mr. Tarasov,” Alexei whispered, hands trembling with fear. “I…we can…. He’s the one who sold you out, I swear!” He pointed at Anatoli, his voice cracking, accentuating the terror in his eyes.
Pathetic.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Alexei,” I said, halting in front of him. “But nobody mentioned that you’re such a pussy who breaks under slight pressure.”
He bit the inside of his mouth.
“Round them up,” I ordered.
My men sprang into action. They first disarmed Alexei’s bodyguards and then forced all five to kneel before me. Ilya and a few others bound their hands behind their backs and stepped away.
I unsheathed my knife and grabbed a handful of Anatoli’s hair, forcing him to look into my eyes.
“Please, Boss. Show mercy,” he begged like a pathetic fool.
“Mercy?” I growled, staring right into his eyes. “What’s the one rule about betrayal?”
His chest heaved rapidly, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I didn’t betray you, Boss. I knew he’d never win against you—his plan was doomed to fail from the start. He doesn’t stand a chance.” The words rushed out in a shaky voice.
“What’s the one rule about betrayal?” I asked, calm and composed.
