"Yes," I admit. "I wanted to kill you."
He laughs again. "I like you, Saint, and I don't like many people." He sips his vodka. "I also like your wife."
I stiffen.
He waves me away. "Do not misunderstand. She's not my type. Too head strong. Too defiant. But she's smart."
I make a sound of acknowledgement in the back of my throat. Artem, it appears, cares to talk, and I let him.
"She got everyone in this room. In one place. At one time. All of Igor's supporters. All the fence-sitters. Everyone I needed to either convert or eliminate." He smiles. "Her plan made my job easier. Much easier. It's why I allowed it."
The words hit like a punch.
"You're saying?—"
"I'm saying your wife is brilliant. Her strategy was sound. She just didn't account for me using it to my advantage." He leans back. "Igor's coronation was the perfect venue. Everyone present. Everyone expecting celebration. No one prepared for violence. She gift-wrapped it for me." He makes a chef's kiss gesture, appreciative.
"That wasn't her intention."
"Of course not. But that's the beauty of it. She played her game. I played mine. Mine was just better. It doesn't make hers bad, simply means she has more to learn." He pulls out his phone. "Which brings us to this."
The footage.
My blood runs cold. Artem is clearly a formidable opponent, and I'm not going to put anything past him.
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Nothing." He opens the file. Deletes it.
I stare. "What?"
"I got what I wanted. Igor is dead. The Bratva is mine. I displayed my power and made examples of those I needed to. No one will challenge me now. I do not need your ports. Why would I need leverage over you?"
"To control the ports. The unions. To expand?—"
"I don't need to expand," he shrugs. "Not yet. Your territories are yours. Our current arrangements stand." He pockets the phone. "We're even, Mr. Marini. Clean slate."
"Why?" I don't trust Artem. Not one fucking bit. He wants something. He's not the type to simply give up a video like the one he has.
"Your wife played well. She lost. But she played well. That deserves respect." He stands. Walks to the window. "I could use that footage. Start a war. Take your territories while you're weak. But I do not find enjoyment in such a thing."
"So, this is about honor?"
He rolls his eyes. "You and I both know there is no real honor with men like us. No," he shakes his head, "this is about consolidation. The men are tired. They have dealt with Alexei, then, his death. Igor ascended, and now, he is dead. If I am to keep control, I need to let them rest. Show benevolence." He finishes his vodka. "Same as you. We are both new to our roles, and I think you'll agree with me that killing is much easier than leading."
I don't say anything, even though I do agree.
"So that's it?" I ask. I gesture to the phone. "Clean slate. We all go about our merry way."
"For now," he says. "We can be enemies when we've both calmed."
I stand. "If I find out you are fucking with me, that you are planning to harm my wife…" I trail off, a small laugh. "Well, you'll learn what makes me dangerous."
Artem stares at me, his eyes hard.
I turn and walk towards the office door, appearing more confident than I feel.
"Saint?"
