Adrian’s laugh is deep, filling the small space. “Something like that.” He leans casually against the glass, his dark eyes glinting. “But he doesn’t bring women or kids here. Never seen it before. You guys must be… special.”
Special. That word again.
I glance at Elijah, who’s now pointing excitedly at Golubka’s tail, oblivious to the weight of Adrian’s words. My chest tightens as I force a smile.
“Special,” I repeat softly, like saying it out loud might make it make sense.
Adrian shrugs, moving back toward the cabinet. “Boss doesn’t save much,” he says, his tone softer now. “But when he does…” He lets the thought hang, unfinished, as he locks the box away.
I exhale sharply, ruffling Elijah’s hair. “You did great, buddy.”
I watch Elijah beam at me, and all I can think is,Damn, he’s so much like him.
Fucking hell, I wonder what Leonid’s doing right now.
39
Leonid
"Suka blyad’!” My lips twist into a feral snarl, the cigar clenched between my teeth as I glare across the table. “What the fuck do you mean, splitting the profit between us?”
The room presses in, too goddamn small for this shit. Fiona’s theatrics are all over it—velvet drapes, gold-trimmed chairs, an antique Persian rug with intricate patterns, and the marble-topped table, 18th-century French, flawless down to the hand-carved legs.I’d know. I gave it to her.A fucking calculated gift to buy her loyalty, to remind her where her fucking alliances should lie.
Yob tvoyu mat. And now?
She’s pissing all over it, tearing everything apart with that smug look on her face like she’s untouchable.
The smell of old wood and smoke hangs in the air—a mix of decadence and deceit. Her bodyguards stand like statues, dead-eyed and stiff, but it’s Ludis across from me who burns through my focus.
Always Ludis.My twin, my enemy.
He leans back in his chair, eyeing me with smug satisfaction. Makes me think of snapping bone. Cuban smoke curls from his lips as he takes a long pull, the ember glowing brighter before he exhales slowly, letting the smoke curl upward like a fucking victory banner. A slow blink follows, his gaze steady, daring me to make the next move.
Mudak.
“Controlled violence breathing” doesn’t help. Nothing helps when you’re watching a dead man try to steal your empire.
Fiona claps her fat hands together. “Oh, Leonid,” she coos, her voice pure venom disguised as silk. “Always so dramatic.”
Dramatic?
Her lips stretch wide, the mole on her upper lip twitching as she grins like a cat about to eat a cornered rat. Like she’s seconds away from giving Ludis and me each a dagger to finish this the old-fashioned way.
“Don’t fucking toy with me, Fiona,” I growl. My gaze flicks to Ludis, his face already smug. The bastard leans back in his chair like he’s sitting on a throne, not across from the one person who’d shoot him without blinking.
“You don’t like it? Then walk away,” Ludis says, his tone light but his eyes dark as sin. “Oh, wait—you can’t. You need this deal as much as I do,brat.” He spits the word like it burns his tongue.
“The answer is a fucking NO, Fiona.” My cigar snaps between my fingers, tobacco scattering across her precious marble.
Fiona lets out a dramatic sigh, resting her chin on one hand. Her other hand toys with the gaudy ring on her finger, turning it slowly.
“Oh, darling boy,” she says, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Do you really think you have a choice? Because I assure you, Leonid, you don’t.”
I glare at her, my jaw tightening as I force myself to stay in my seat. The heat crawling up my neck demands violence, but I hold it back—for now.
“This is the difference,” I say, “between the Bratva and these fucking mongrel criminals you’re so fond of surrounding yourself with, Fiona. Wedon’tbackstab. Wedon’tplay these dirty little games.” I lean forward, the edge of the table pressing against my forearms. “We have a code. Rules. We protect our own and handle our business clean. No chaos. No loose ends.”
Fiona tilts her head, an infuriating smirk playing on her lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like this pissing contest. But let’s not waste my time, shall we?”
