“Ivan, it’s good to see you.” Oleg wasn’t lying. He never feared a snake on the path; it was the one hiding in the grass you had to watch for. “I was just catching up with Dimitri.”
“Yes, did he tell you about his granddaughters? He won’t shut up about them,” Ivan muttered. “Four girls, can you imagine?”
“No doubt their great-grandfather will be spoiled by their adoration.” Oleg quickly turned the snide remark around. “He might become impossible to live with.” Oleg reached the top of the stairs and held out his hand.
But Ivan quickly pulled Oleg into a forced embrace. Another show for his men, playing up camaraderie that had only ever been a fiction in Truvor’s clan.
“Welcome to my borrowed home. It belongs to this billionaire who is stuck in Moscow at the moment.” Ivan laughed. “Better for us, no?”
“It’s very striking architecture.” Oleg quickly stepped away and handed Ivan the bottle of high-end vodka he knew his brother preferred. “How has the summit been for you so far? You had meetings last night, I think.”
“I did.” Ivan led him inside and handed the vodka to his butler. “Kolya, put this on ice, will you?” Ivan offered an exaggerated shrug. “Eh, the Europeans. You know how timid they are.”
“Hmm.” Oleg offered noncommittal sounds.
“The human war makes them cautious,” Ivan said. “The humans now, they are like mice in the walls, no?” He wiggled his fingers. “Their little eyes are everywhere. They can sniff out money like cheese.”
Well, that was a vivid mental picture.
Oleg simply said, “Human surveillance is a threat to us all if we don’t take the proper precautions.” He turned to Mika, who handed him a folder. “Incidentally, I have a proposal from a security company that specializes in immortal cybersecurity. I’m showing it to all the governors to get their opinion.”
Ivan’s eyebrow went up. “Is this a requirement then?”
“It’s a consideration,” Oleg said. “Coordination could make all our businesses more secure.”
“It could also lead to weakness,” Ivan said. “A single crack in the wall could give access to all our interests.”
“An excellent point,” Oleg said, “and one I will consider.”
Much of their conversation from there circled around the mundanities of business and the running of their organizations. Though nearly all of Ivan’s enterprises were black or grey market, much of the administration was the same as Oleg’s, which had been transitioning to legitimate business for decades.
“Ludmila and Oksana tell me that things have been running smoothly since the warehouse,” Oleg said after a half hour of chatting. “That’s good to hear.”
“We’ve been utilizing air transport,” Ivan said. “It is a good alternative and leaves much less exposure to outside threats.”
“No doubt.” Oleg already knew that Ivan had turned to cargo planes for his smuggled goods. He also knew it was costing his brother a fortune. “And your distributors?”
“They prefer to move things by truck, but what am I supposed to do when these timid Euros won’t work with me?” Ivan shrugged, but Oleg could tell he was angry.
“Timid Euros” was probably referring to the Poshani trucking companies who had blacklisted him.
Amusing. No one but Ivan would describe the Poshani as timid.
“I understand you have a meeting with Takhmina Rasulova on Thursday,” Oleg said. “I’m meeting with her on Tuesday. I’ll be sure to give her assurances that a deal with Ivan Sokholov means a deal with all the Kievan Rus.”
Ivan smiled, but Oleg could see the tension behind it. “Excellent.”
Ivan wanted to act like the czar of his own little kingdom, but Oleg was happy to remind him that when it came to the rest of the world, it was Oleg who was the face of their empire.
And that was not going to change. No matter what house Ivan rented.
Oleg had attendeda week of meetings—which tried his patience—and enjoyed a week of Tatyana in his bed every night—which was entirely agreeable.
But it was the final night of the summit, and the gala ball would happen at midnight with a traditional Hungarian csárdás dance by the vampires of the Báthory clan starting the evening, followed by a grand ball with all the vampires invited to the party. Traditional dress was encouraged.
Oleg pulled on another pair of boots before he donned the kaftan of royal blue with gold embroidery. There were citrines and pieces of amber sewed into the borders, and sapphire and gold brooches decorated the collar.
The colors were traditional for the Kievan Rus, but more personally, they were emblematic of Oleg, the yellow representing fire, and the blue water, a small nod to his wife, though he could not claim her hand publicly for now.
