“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I reply.
He laughs. “Of course. Of course, you don’t.” He slowly sips before speaking again. “But let’s speak plainly, if we can. The past has a way of resurfacing, no? Old debts, old grudges. Sometimes even old bloodlines.”
I lean back in my chair, perfectly relaxed. “Are we talking about someone specific? Or are you just waxing philosophical, as you’re wont to do?”
“The Fetisov massacre. Twenty years ago. Tragic business.”
“Indeed.”
“Lev Fetisov had a family. Wife. Two children—no, three. There was, let me see if I remember.” He counts off on his fingers. “A daughter. A son. And a five-year-old, a girl, if my recollections are correct.”
“Your point?”
“No point. Just memories.” His smile is cold. “You knew Lev, didn’t you?”
“We did business together. Briefly.”
“And after he died, you made certain arrangements. Protected certain people.”
I don’t blink. “I protect a lot of people, Kolya. It’s part of the job.”
“Of course, protection of various individuals is a common favor to extend in our world. But let’s say—hypothetically, of course—that someone from that family survived. Someone who might complicate things for the current leadership of the Bratva. That would be problematic.”
“For you, you mean.”
His jaw tightens. “For stability. For peace between our organizations.”
“Peace.” I let the word hang in the air. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Why wouldn’t I? We have a treaty, Gabriel.”
“We have a ceasefire.”
“Semantics.”
“Strategy.” I lean forward, elbows on the desk. “You’ve been chipping away at our territories for years, Kolya, all while hiding behind that treaty like it’s ironclad. So forgive me if I’m not particularly interested in your concerns about stability.”
His smile fades.
“The girl,” he says. “I want her.”
“No.”
“I’ll pay double. Two million dollars.”
“No.”
“Three.”
“She’s not for sale.”
“Everything is for sale, Gabriel. You, of all people, should know that.”
I stand slowly.
“Let me be very clear,” I say. “The girl is mine. End of story. I paid for her, I bought her. She’s mine. And I’m not going to tolerate you pestering me about it.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment.
