Prologue
JULIAN
This asshole thinkshe’s intimidating me.
I’m sitting in Sergei Ivanov’s office, across from the man himself, who’s puffing away on a disgusting cigar. He’s so fucking cheap, he doesn’t even have the decency to smuggle Cubans in.
Sergei’s refusal to part with money is the reason I’m sitting here in the first place.
“Your son is late,” he says with a heavy Russian accent, as if it might be lost on me that Elliott isn’t in the room.
“He’ll be here,” I reply. I don’t bother to check my phone or my watch and show any kind of weakness in front of the head of the Bratva.
Elliott will be here.
“I’m a busy man, Mr. Stavros. If you’re wasting my time?—”
“I’m not wasting anyone’s time, and you’re not the only man in this room who has other business to attend to. Let’s get started.”
Sergei’s eyes narrow, and then he grunts, and the man standing to his right sets a black folder on the desk.
“I took the liberty of having my attorney write a contract.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Amarriagecontract?”
“That’s right.”
I won’t be signing anything this idiot sets in front of me, but I offer him a congenial smile.
“And what are the terms in this contract?”
“Well, there’s all kinds of legal speak here, but basically, your son marries my daughter, and my debt to you is forgiven.”
Oh, his debt will never be forgiven.
“What else?”
“I think it’s pretty standard. If Elliott cheats on her, he’ll have to pay her ten million dollars?—”
“You meanyou.”
Sergei’s eyes narrow. “That’s right.”
“And if she cheats?”
“She won’t.”
My lips twitch. “You seem so sure of yourself.”
“My daughter has been raised to be the perfect organized crime wife. She knows what’s expected of her. She’ll remain faithful, she’ll take her punishments, and she’ll never ask for a divorce.”
She’ll take her punishments.
I’d like to pull the gun from the small of my back and fill his head with lead. Better than that, I’d prefer to pull my knife out and flay the skin from his pathetic, fat body.
Instead, I hold his gaze with mine.
“No.”
