Paddles fly up, the numbers climbing so fast it’s dizzying. I sit back, sipping my scotch as the wolves tear into each other.
twenty-two
Leonid
"All funds in the safe house,” Maksim reports, his voice crackling through the phone.
Three hundred and ninety million for the “Blood of the Nile.” It’s a staggering amount, even for me. The stone is rare, sure, but I didn’t expect it to fetch quite that much.
“Perfect,” I answer, a smile pulling at my lips. “Any signs of trouble? Ludis or his men?”
There’s a pause, and I can almost hear Maksim’s shrug. “Nyet,Pakhan. It’s been quiet. Almost too quiet, if you ask me.”
I frown, a flicker of unease passing through me. He’s right. It’s been too smooth, too easy. And in my experience, that usually means something’s about to go very wrong.
“Stop worrying like adedushka.” Maksim chuckles as if reading my thoughts. “We got the money. It’s a good day.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Since when are you such an optimist?”
“Since I got laid last night,” he retorts, and I can hear the grin in his voice. “You should try it sometime, boss. Might loosen you up a bit.”
“Mudak,” I mutter. “Just get your ass over to The Aerie. We need to celebrate.”
“You got it, boss. Be there in 20.”
The line goes dead, and I toss the phone onto the bar. The auction’s done, the money’s in the pocket. But instead of satisfaction, all I feel is a vague sense of restlessness.
“Nika, another vodka,” I call out, my eyes sliding over to the robot bartender.
She’s a beauty with sleek white synthetic skin and platinum hair. The latest model from our robotics venture with the Yakuza. Her green LED eyes flicker as she processes my request, her full lips curving into a coquettish smile.
“Right away, Mr. Kuznetsov,” she purrs. Her voice, rough yet seductive, drips with a deliberately programmed Russian accent—designed to ensnare the senses of any man who listens.
I watch as she pours the clear liquid, her movements precise and graceful. She’s a marvel of engineering, no doubt. But as lifelike as she is, there’s still something unsettlingly artificial about her. Something cold and empty behind those glowing eyes.
She slides the glass over to me, her fingers brushing mine as I take it.
The auction’s done, and I’m already over it.
I down the vodka in one gulp, the warmth in my throat a welcome distraction from the emptiness gnawing at my gut. I turn back to the view; the city sprawls out before me like a glittering whore begging to be fucked.
“Leonid, my man!” Clint’s booming voice cuts through the music. “This place is sick! You sure know how to throw a party.” He slaps me on the back, his hand heavy. “Hell, yeah! And that auction? Woo-wee! You really know how to rake in the dough.”
This touchy-feely Americansukais pushing his luck. It takes all my control not to snap his hand off. Still, allies are better than enemies in this game—for now.
I turn, pasting on a grin. “Clint. Enjoying yourself?”
Zhang sidles up, his dragon mask glinting. “Impressive turn-out,Pakhan. And an even more impressive venue.”
I shrug, playing it cool. “The Aerie’s just one of my toys. Wait till you see The Labyrinth.”
Jackson’s eyes go wide. “The Labyrinth? Shit, I heard about that place. Isn’t that where you have to sign a waiver just to get in?”
I smirk. “Something like that.”
The DJ shifts tracks, the beat dropping heavy and dirty. The dance floor writhes, bodies grinding in a mass of sweat and glitter.
I let my gaze drift, taking in the details of my domain. The smoky glass floor pulsing with hidden LEDs. The dark vines snaking up the blackened pillars. The robot bartenders, slinging drinks with mechanical precision.
