“Any word on the new family?” I asked quietly, without looking directly at Kirill.
He flinched. “You mean the Russians?”
“I mean the Russians that are silent and smart enough to make the old Russians nervous.”
Kirill hesitated. “All I have heard are whispers. They’re apparently buying properties under different names. Hotels, restaurants, and whatnot.”
“Do you have the names?”
“Not yet,” he replied, “Do you think they’re moving on Morozov territory?”
The Morozovs were the largest and most prominent crime family in Miami. The Chernykhs were already in a close alliance with them, but if the new family tried to go against the Morozovs, it would only lead to bloodshed. A war each one of us will be forced to enter. I wanted to shut them down before things escalated any further.
“I think,” I said, swirling the drink, “they’re testing the waters. And I don’t like anyone dipping toes in what belongs to us.”
He nodded quickly. “Of course. If I hear anything—”
“You’ll tell me first,” I finished for him, pinning him with a stare.
He nodded and left, clearly eager to breathe somewhere else.
I didn’t blame him. It wasn’t always easy to breathe around me.
Music floated through the room in slow, haunting notes from a grand piano in the corner. No one was really listening; they were much too busy watching the stage being prepared. The red velvet curtains were drawn as the spotlight shifted, increasing the anticipation in the room, which was already heavy enough to choke on.
A woman in a crimson dress brushed past me. Her perfume expensive and suffocating.
“Alone tonight?” she purred.
“Always,” I said, without bothering to look at her.
Her laughter trailed away as she found another target after clearly finding that I was uninterested in whatever she had to offer. Women like her always found a way to get into places like these. The entire ballroom was swarming with the likes of her. It was a special talent. And I had a special talent for staying away from these women. Everything about them disgusted me.
The thing about these places was that everything had a price. Some sold bodies. Others sold souls. And most of them no longer knew the difference between these two.
I had no interest in either.
I was here for nothing but information. A new family from Russia, silent and strategic, had started crawling into our city like smoke. As per Kirill, they were buying businesses, and as per my recent stakeouts and investigations, they were simply gathering leverage and studying alliances. They were showing the kind of patience that only meant long-term trouble, and I had no desire to sit idly while they expanded their network around my family and our allies.
Iosif had asked me to wait. “They’ll expose themselves,” he’d told me. “And we’ll crush them when they do.”
But I didn’t like waiting. It always got people killed.
So I came here instead, where the worst kinds of men hid behind silk and smiled over suffering. If this new family had any connection to the underworld trade, this was where their scent would linger.
But so far, all I could smell was decay.
“Avgust Chernykh,” someone muttered nearby, trying not to look at me directly. “I didn’t know the boss’s right hand liked these events.”
I turned my head just enough for my gaze to meet his. I had seen him around, but I did not know who he was. I didn’t even need to. He was clearly irrelevant. The man froze, all color draining from his face. I didn’t even have to say a word to cause that reaction. That was the benefit of a reputation. You didn’t need to raise your voice when your silence could do the job.
I checked my watch out of habit. It was midnight.
Almost time for the auction to begin and for me to get out of here.
The new family was nowhere in sight, and I was not going to stay and watch these sleazy assholes bid on poor, terrified women. I was already compelled to start a blood bath down here purely for the amusement I would feel in hurting men the likes of them. But that could wait. Right now, my mission was something else.
Before I could turn around and leave, the announcer appeared on stage. He was a tall man with slicked-back hair and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He tapped the microphone once, the sharp echo slicing through the chatter.
