If Aleksei hadn’t been in the Bratva for as long as I’ve been breathing, I’d put a hole through his skull right now for wasting my time like this.
I clench my jaw so hard I’m surprised my teeth don’t crack, but I finally give in, dropping into the chair across from them. It’s not respect—it’s obligation. Aleksei was loyal to my father, Andrei. And while that loyalty keeps him alive, it doesn’t mean I won’t make him pay for this later.
Kensington, the sweaty little pig, shifts in his seat like a child trying to impress a strict teacher. His fat fingers smooth over his silk tie—probably sweating through that, too—and he flashes a nervous smile. His skin is pale, but his forehead shines with an oily sheen, the kind that makes me want to slap the grease right off him.
“Mr. Kuznetsov,” he starts again, his words spilling out too fast, “I’ve been following your ventures for years. Such discerning taste, in art, in business, in… everything.”
More lies.
I stare at him, patience wearing thin.
This fool has no idea who I am. Or maybe he does, and he’s just that desperate. I can see the sweat pooling at the edges of his temples, dripping down his neck. He’s trying too hard to keep his cool, and it’s pathetic. Every word out of his mouth is another lie, another ploy to get me on his side.
I lean back in my chair, eyes narrowing at Aleksei. The corner of Aleksei’s mouth twitches upward as he savors his sashimi, his eyes half-closed in appreciation. A drop of soy sauce clings to his bottom lip, and he dabs it away with his napkin, taking his time.
His grin remains steady, even as I grit my teeth, the slow chew of his food almost mocking. He knows I’m about two seconds away from walking out.
“Leonid,” he says smoothly, “You’re well past the age for marriage. It’s time to start considering alliances that benefit both business and… personal life.”
I glance at Kensington, who’s now beaming like a sweaty fool. The two women exchange glances, and I catch the older one giving me a once-over, her eyes trailing from my face down to my chest, lingering before they drop lower, not even bothering to hide it.
I’m seeing red.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I growl, my voice low. My eyes flick back to Aleksei. “This is why I’m here? To be paraded around like some prize bull for sale?”
Aleksei’s smirk tightens. “You’re past thirty-five, Leonid. It’s time to settle down with someone… influential.” He motions to the older woman like she’s the prize he’s dangling in front of me.
Kensington clears his throat, leaning forward, trying to salvage whatever this disaster is. “My daughters are well-versed in business, Mr. Kuznetsov,” he says, his voice still too eager. “They’ve traveled extensively—Europe, Asia… You’ll find their connections to be quite… valuable.”
I don’t even look at the women. “Valuable?” I shoot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that what you call this?”
The older one—too much plastic in her face to even read a proper reaction—tries to lean in, flashing that overstuffed smile again. “I’ve always admired men of power,” she says, her voice thick with fake charm. “Daddy’s told me all about you.”
I raise an eyebrow, my patience gone. “Did Daddy tell you that this isn’t a fucking dating service?”
Aleksei, sensing my growing temper, shifts in his seat. “This is an opportunity, Leonid. Kensington’s connections—his daughters—are exactly the kind of alliance you need to strengthen our position.”
My fist tightens around the edge of the table, and for a second, I think about flipping it and walking out. But no. I sit, glaring at Aleksei; the only thing holding me back is the years he served under my father.
“If I wanted an alliance,” I say slowly, “I wouldn’t need… this.” I glance at the women, making sure they understand that whatever this is, it’s a joke.
The younger one blushes, her eyes flicking between me and her father. The older one just smiles wider, completely unfazed, as if she still thinks she’s winning me over.
I turn back to Aleksei, cold. “This better be the last time you pull this shit, Aleksei. Or next time, I’ll show you just how little patience I have left.”
Aleksei’s grin falters, but he nods, leaning back as if he’s won something.
Kensington shifts again, his nervous smile returning. “Mr. Kuznetsov, I assure you—this arrangement would bring you more than you can imagine.”
I lean forward, meeting his eyes with a glare. “I don’t need anything you’re selling, Kensington.”
His face pales, the sweat building up again. But the older daughter, still thinking she’s got a shot, leans closer, her breath catching slightly as her eyes roam over me again.
Aleksei’s eyes flicker between us like he’s waiting for me to fold.
But I won’t. I’ve already made up my mind.
All I can think about now isClara Caldwell.
