"If this is about territory?—"
"It's not about territory."
Igor shifts his weight. The movement draws Lucio's attention.
Good. Let him be nervous.
"Then what?" Lucio spreads his hands. "We've always had a cordial relationship with the Bratva."
"Cordial." I taste the word. "Is that what you call it when your people sell drugs with my family's mark?"
His face goes pale. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No?"
I open the folder on my desk. Slide the first photo across.
Drake. The seventeen-year-old kid we caught. The one who told us everything.
"This boy says a man approached him. Said he worked for the Corellis. Offered him five hundred dollars for two deliveries."
"That's not?—"
"The drugs had my mark." I slide another photo. "Poor quality. Killed three people."
Lucio stares at the images. His throat works.
"Anyone can claim to work for us," he says. "That doesn't mean?—"
"The recruiter knew your distribution routes." I lean forward. "Knew your safe houses. Knew which corners your people work."
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
I slide the final photo across. Security footage from one of their own warehouses. A man loading product into a van.
The same van Drake described.
Lucio's hands shake as he picks up the photo.
"I don't..." He trails off.
"You don't what?" My voice drops. "You don't know how someone from your organization is using your resources to destroy my reputation?"
"It's not—we would never?—"
"Wouldn't you?"
Igor moves closer. Just a step. But Lucio flinches.
"Mr. Baganov, please." Lucio sets the photo down carefully. "If someone in my organization is doing this, I had no knowledge of it."
"Your organization." I stand. Walk around the desk. "Your responsibility."
"I'll find out who?—"
"You'll find out?" I stop in front of him. "You think I need you to investigate?"
