“Tell Mr. Kuznetsov,” I whisper fiercely, my hand lands on her shoulder, my grip firm but measured; it’s a silent signal of my authority, “that I need to see him. Now.”
Anya’s eyes widen briefly before she recovers, her professional mask snapping back into place. “Mr. Kuznetsov is currently unavailable—”
“That’s not what I asked,” I interrupt, stepping just a little closer. I’m taller than her, and I make sure she feels it. My gaze locks on hers, and I don’t blink.
“Tell him. Now.”
She hesitates, her perfect composure cracking as she takes a half-step back.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she murmurs, her voice quieter than before.
“Good,” I reply, still holding her gaze as I step back. I give her just enough space to make her escape.
Anya doesn’t waste a second, nodding stiffly before turning on her heel and walking off, her quickened pace betraying the calm she’s trying so hard to project. I sit back down, exhaling slowly, the rush of adrenaline thrumming beneath my skin.
Before I can fully settle, Elijah comes barreling back, his hands slightly wet but not clean enough to pass inspection. He skids to a stop in front of me, grinning as he holds up his hands.
“All clean, Mommy!”
A nearby couple frowns, one of them muttering something about “manners.” I catch the woman’s glare and raise a brow, daring her to say it louder. She doesn’t.
Elijah climbs back into his chair like nothing happened. “Can we go skiing now?” he asks, completely unaware of the tension still simmering in the air.
Not yet. Not until I get some answers.
49
Leonid
“Do you spend your life in the gym?” Vic asks, his blue-gray eyes flicking over me as I pour vodka into a crystal glass. He leans back in the leather chair across my desk, straightening the cuff of his perfectly tailored jacket.
“Or is this what happens when you avoid Swiss chocolate?”
I glance at him but don’t take the bait. “Someone has to stay sharp.”
Vic smirks, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair.
“Sharp, yes. But I’ve known you a long time, my friend. And this?” He gestures broadly around the room, the office bathed in golden light spilling through tall windows, clouds stretching out like an ocean below us. “This isn’t like you. You don’t just… appear. Not without a plan.”
“That’s because I have one.” I take a sip, savoring the burn, and lean against the edge of my desk. The glass feels cool in myhand, grounding me. “You didn’t think I’d let Fiona continue unchecked, did you?”
Vic’s eyebrows lift, and he tilts his head, his expression somewhere between curiosity and approval.
“Fiona. Of course. The woman who thinks she can run both sides of the board without tipping it over.” He taps a finger against the side of his chair. “She’s getting greedy.”
“Greedy doesn’t even cover it,” I say, setting my glass down with a deliberate clink. “She’s using my gold to buy Ludis’s connections. She wants expansion. Everywhere. But she doesn’t realize she’s playing with fire.”
Vic leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his sharp features shadowed in the low light. “And you’re here to remind her what happens when someone burns you. Yes?”
I don’t answer immediately, but Vic knows. He always does. He adjusts the vintage Patek Philippe on his wrist, a subtle pause before he speaks, like he’s calibrating his next move.
“You could freeze her out,” he says casually, “Cut her routes. Make her deals dry up. But that’s a slow burn. Effective, but slow.”
“And your way?” I ask, meeting his calculating gaze.
He smiles faintly, a predator’s smile. “Squeeze her. Use her greed against her. Offer her something she can’t resist—more than she’s already taken. But build in a choke point. A place where you can cut her off and make sure she knows it. If you do it right, you won’t have to lift a finger. She’ll destroy herself trying to grab it all.”
I lean back, considering his words. It’s a clean strategy and one that avoids a messy confrontation. But there’s something about the way Vic shifts in his seat, his eyes glinting with subtle amusement, that makes me pause.
