Maybe Lauren could answer some age-old questions for me about my old man and hers.
But given that she’s Charles’ daughter, we must tread carefully from now on. Charles Watson is one shadymudakwho could easily have connections to Ronan Aslanov. For all we know, Lauren could be their pretty little spy.
“What is it?” asks Timur, probably seeing the shift in my expression.
“She’s Charles Watson’s daughter.”
His face sours. Looks like that piece of information is just as new to him as it is to me. Besides, if he knew who his wife’s friend is, he would have told me already. I know he’s thinking the same as me. This isn’t just some overprotective best friend causing mayhem at a wedding. Lauren is a liability, just like her old man.
“Blyad.That complicates things.”
“Da.”
Charles Watson has a past track record of tangling himself up with the wrong people, so it’s possible he’s doing the same again. His daughter could easily be involved in whatever the old bastard is doing now.
Timur straightens his posture. “Speaking of Watson, he has been more careful lately. Probably wants to keep his name clean.”
“And his daughter?” I ask. “You know anything about her?”
Timur shrugs. “I didn’t even know she was Watson’s girl. Just knew of her as Sophia’s friend.”
“She said something about Sophia marrying a monster.”
“Charming.”
“She thinks we killed someone close to her, and she thinks the killer was you. Any idea who she’s talking about?”
Timur folds his arms over his chest and furrows his brow in thought. “Must be her mother. Watson’s wife died four years ago when her husband got into some shit with Popov. I was there. The whole thing was a colossal fuckup.”
“You do her?”
Timur shakes his head. “Nyet.She got in the way of a stray bullet. Fuck knows where it came from. You know how it is.”
I recline in my chair and exhale a breath.
“Look, boss.” Timur shifts his weight. “It doesn’t really matter what Lauren knows or if she’s working with her father. If she decides to poke around our shit, she’ll become a problem.”
I nod.
“I’ll keep an eye on her. Maybe she’ll calm down, now that her friend is married to thismonster.”
Timur smirks. “I’ve been called much worse. Any news about Aslanov?”
I shake my head. “Security was tight tonight. Too many people, too much attention. If he had tried something, he would’ve failed.”
Timur nods, but the sour expression doesn’t leave his face. “You know it’s only a matter of time before he makes his move.”
Of course, I know. Ronan Aslanov has been a thorn in my side since the day I took control of the Bratva, testing my patience and my power at every opportunity. And the worst thing about him is that he’s smart and resourceful. He’s not like other syndicate leaders, violent and hot-headed. He’s calm and pragmatic, making carefully calculated decisions, always staying a step ahead of his competitors.
Multiple attempts were made on my father’s life back when he waspakhan. And when my old man survived each one with the help of his personal bodyguards, Aslanov decided to tear us Rogovs apart another way. He killed someone who didn’t have a defense team covering them twenty-four-seven.
My mother.
I thought my father would be easy prey after that, that the pain would break him, but I was proven wrong. He never even shed a tear. It was the principle of Aslanov killing somebody close to him that got to him,notthe fact that his wife was dead.
I never saw him the same way after that.
Father passed away when I was twenty-five. There was a territorial fight between Italians and Russians, and he ended up being burned alive. Not exactly the most pleasant way to die. But the syndicate needed a new leader, so I stepped up and claimed the Rogov Bratva as my own before Aslanov could step in. My father and I didn’t have the best relationship after my mother’s death, but it was stillmyempire, named aftermysurname.
