The name has me lifting an eyebrow. The fucker has been trying to sell AK47s on the West Coast. “I’m aware of him.”
“He’s been a problem since before I took over as head of the organization, and he refuses to fall in line. I’ve heard he’s started sending small shipments to the US. I’m dealing with it.” His jaw tightens before he continues. “Just know, if you come into contact with him, he’s not authorized by me at all.”
Well, that answers the question before I could ask it.
“Then anything tied to him doesn’t move through our routes,” I state.
Raya shifts beside me. “I’ll flag his known contacts and routes while I’m mapping everything. If anything links back to him, I’ll isolate it so we can get men to patrol the routes and shut down shipments that aren’t ours.”
Atanas studies her for a moment, then gives a firm nod. “Good. That keeps it contained. I don’t want Boris affecting anything we’re trying to put in place here.”
“He won’t,” I say, holding his gaze.
Something in Petkov’s expression eases, just slightly. “Good.”
He leans forward and pours three tumblers of whiskey. Helping himself to a glass, he gestures to the other two while saying, “Here’s to a prosperous alliance between us.”
“To growth and more money,” I toast before taking a sip, while Raya ignores the third glass. My sister has never liked the taste of alcohol.
Petkov looks at her again, and his dark gaze softens a fraction. “Would you like wine, Raya?”
She shakes her head, and giving him a nervous smile that makes me frown, she asks, “Do you have sparkling water?”
Petkov glances at the door where Santino is standing near one of the guards. “Have Ms. Nikolova bring sparkling water for Miss Torrisi.”
The man nods before contacting Ms. Nikolova via a two-way radio.
Petkov glances between Raya and me, then the corner of his mouth lifts. “So that settles it. Going forward, we’re working together.”
“It’s better than the alternative,” I reply, returning his smile.
He seems to relax even more as he asks, “How was the trip from New York?”
“Good.” Wanting him to know I’m sincere about this alliance, I give him personal information by saying, “Raya and I were born in Bulgaria but have never had the opportunity to visit. Are there any sights you suggest we visit while we’re here?”
Surprise flashes over his face. “You’re of Bulgarian descent? Last name?”
“Markov. Right after our family moved to the States, there was a fire in our apartment building. Only Raya and I survived, but we were lucky to be adopted soon after.”
Ms. Nikolova comes in and sets down a tray on the table before leaving. Raya leans forward and helps herself to a glass of sparkling water that has a wedge of lime in it.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Petkov murmurs. His dark gaze flicks to Raya as she takes a couple of sips, then a smile lifts the corner of his mouth before he looks at me again. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you won’t agree to an arranged marriage to solidify ties between our organizations.”
Water flies from Raya as she chokes, and I quickly pat her back. She climbs to her feet, and looking rattled, she croaks, “Bathroom?”
“Stani will show you where to go,” Petkov says, giving the guard by the door a nod.
I lock eyes with Santino, silently ordering him to go with Raya as she hurries out of the office.
When we’re alone, I turn my attention back to Petkov. “You assume right. It’s nothing personal. I’ll never agree to an arranged marriage between my sister and any man. She’s not a bargaining chip, but my second-in-command and the most important person to me.”
He stares at me while a look of respect settles on his face. “I understand.” Still, it doesn’t stop him from asking, “And if I take the traditional route and court your sister?”
Fuck.
I can’t be a dick. He’s showing me respect by asking my permission.
While I consider his request, Raya returns, and as she sits down beside me again, she shoots me a questioning look.
