“Which is why we’re not telling our fathers shit. We have soldiers loyal to us, who understand we’re the future, and if they want to stick around long enough, they’ll follow our orders.”
My father’s in Russia right now and Elio’s old man is in Italy, busy turning his two youngest into made men. Point is, we run the show on the ground.
“We take care of the Ghost, and when it’s all over, we go back to our own corners of the city and pretend this never happened.”
Elio’s mouth tightens and his gaze slides from me to Matvey and Dem. “And I’m supposed to trust you assholes?”
I give him a sour look. “Do you have a choice?”
Elio and I get to our feet, both moving like old men.
Elio spits, but he’s not throwing any more punches. I have his attention. “Fine, I’m listening. What’s your big plan?”
“We have a heroin shipment arriving by ship this Friday. It’s already paid for, en route from Afghanistan. We’d planned to reroute it up to Canada and warehouse it until shit settles here, but I have a new plan. We unload the dope at our docks here and wait for the Ghost to hit. Except this time when they do, we ambush them with soldiers from both of our families.” I finish.
Dem grinds his cigarette under his boot. “Best case scenario, we capture their soldiers, interrogate them, find out who’s running the show.”
Elio scoffs. “Ambitious, don’t you think? Considering how hard the Ghost has kicked your ass.”
“All of our asses,” Matvey points out. “They hit your warehouse last week, didn’t they? We’ve learned from our mistakes.”
Elio crosses his arms, jaw working as he thinks it through. “How much manpower are we talking?”
“Twenty-five soldiers from us, twenty-five from you,” I say.
“I don’t want to lead my men to their deaths.”
“You think I do?” I bristle. “We plan this together and keep the details locked down. Only the people in this alley know the full plan until the day of the attack. Our men get their orders an hour before they’re in position. The Ghost won’t see us coming.”
Elio stares at the pavement, his jaw tight as he weighs the odds, before giving a stiff nod. “Ground rules: we share intelligence. No holding back. If you learn something, I learn it.Vice versa. When we find the Ghost, we deal with them together. This is a joint operation.”
“Fine.” I extend my hand. Elio stares at it a long time before he clasps it.
This is a bad idea. Trusting Elio Valenti is like trusting a snake not to strike. But we’re out of options and out of time.
“We just have to play nice for a little while,” I say.
“Until the end of the month,” he agrees.
“I’ll be in touch.”
“Can’t wait,” Elio drawls, wiping blood from his nose.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
DINARA
The driver opensmy door before I can reach for the handle, and I step out onto the sidewalk in front of my building, the late-night ride courtesy of Kirill Baronov.
I hadn’t anticipated it, but hey, I’m not complaining. Tonight was my second shift, and I’m exhausted from hours trailing Klara around the main floor. I didn’t have my own tables, but I was still run ragged.
“Thanks again for the lift,” I say to the very tall, very tatted-up driver. Before I can take another step, his voice stops me.
“Ms. Panova.” When I turn back, he’s holding out a small manila envelope. “Your new keys.”
“My what now?” I take the envelope, the weight of metal inside shifting.
