“You’re wasting mine,” I snap, my gaze flicking back to her. “You think I’d work with this piece of shit? He’s unstable, Fiona. A fucking wildcard with more bodies on his record than sense.”
“Flatter me more,brat,” Ludis interrupts, ashing his cigar onto the floor like he owns the place. “I might start to think you care.”
Fiona’s laugh bubbles up—that artificial, glass-breaking sound that makes my molars grind.
Suka blyad’, I should have broken her neck the moment she led me down here.
“That’s the thing about you, Leonid,” Ludis says, crossing one leg over the other with the kind of precision that makes me itch for violence. “Always clinging to your preciouscode.Like it’ll save you.”
He takes another long drag from his cigar, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that curls between us.
“You think rules make you better than me? You’re just as dirty. The only difference is, I don’t lie to myself about it.”
My jaw tightens, the ache spreading down my neck. “The Bratva has survived for years because of those rules. Without them, you’re nothing but a rabid dog waiting to be put down.”
“Maybe.” Ludis shrugs, flicking ash carelessly onto the rug beneath him again. “But rabid dogs get results. And right now, Fiona needs results, not your moral fucking high ground.”
“Boys, boys, boys.” She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, her face twisting into a sour, condescending smirk. As if we’re children who just shit in our diapers and need changing. “You’re giving me a headache. Leonid, I don’t care about yourcode.Ludis may not follow rules, but he gets things done. And for what I’m planning, I need both of you.”
Something snaps loose inside me.Code.Like it’s some fucking joke. The cigar crushes in my grip as I surge forward, chair scraping back.
“Mycodeis why your empire hasn’t crumbled, you stupid bitch.” My voice drops to a growl. “Mycodeis why every shipment arrives pure. Why your precious jewelry business isn’t drowning in blood. Why the Swiss still trust us.”
Ludis snorts. “Such nobility from a glorified delivery boy.”
I ignore him, eyes locked on Fiona. “You want to play? Fine. But the moment you let this rabid dog off his leash,” I jab a finger at Ludis, “everything burns. The mines, the connections, the trust. All of it.” I lean closer, close enough to see her pupils dilate. “You’re not just making a mistake, Fiona. You’re signing your own death warrant.”
She drums her ringed fingers against the table—tap, tap, tap. “Let me be crystal clear. Leonid controls the mines. Pure, Swiss gold that makes my little empire,” she twists one of her gaudy rings, “sparkle. And you, my dear Ludis, you have what I need to expand. Those underground routes, those dirty little secrets that make problems… disappear.”
“And now you want more.” I pull in a breath to steady myself. “Not satisfied with just turning my gold into your pretty trinkets anymore, are you, Fiona?”
“A girl’s got to grow.” Her lips curl. “Besides, imagine what we could do. Your glorious gold, Ludis’ shadow network—”
“Fuck your imagination,” I hiss. “Give me back my shipment, and we’re done.”
Her smile widens, all teeth. “Oh, that lovely little half-ton sitting in my vault? Pure. Swiss. Gold.” Each word drops like a stone. “Would be a shame if something happened to it. Melted down, perhaps? Mixed with cheaper metals?” She taps her ring again. “Or maybe just… lost.”
Ludis leans back, blowing smoke rings toward the ceiling. “Sounds expensive, brother. How much was it again? Fifty billion? Sixty?”
My jaw clenches so hard I taste blood. That gold was meant for the Chinese deal next week. Without it… “Suka.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Fiona’s voice drips honey over steel. “So, let’s try this again. Your mines, Ludis’ routes, my… protection. Unless you’d rather explain to your Chinese friends why their investment is decorating my fingers?”
A muscle jumps in my jaw.
The ticking of the clock behind me—ornate and gilded, one of Fiona’s unnecessary indulgences—beats like a slow drum, a reminder that every second here costs me more than time.
40
Leonid
Pizda.The bitch has me cornered, and she knows it.
I press my palms flat against the table, the smooth surface cool under my skin. My eyes burn into Fiona.
“So, what the fuck do you want me to do now?” My voice crackles with fury—like a fucking blade pressed to a throat.
She thinks she’s won? That she can toy with me like some fucking puppet? When this is done, she’ll be nothing but a bloated corpse floating in the sea.
