Chapter 33
Although I’ve beendreading this meeting all week, and under normal circumstances I would have enjoyed staying to put Thatcher through his paces…I can’t say I’m not atadrelieved.
Too many emotions have been swirling in my mind lately. Unwelcome, nasty things that won’t do anyone any good. Hopefully, today’s trade negotiation can recenter my focus on what matters: shoring up my hold on this Bratva once and for all.
Almost all the pieces are in place, and Misha’s going to deserve a yearlong vacation for all the behind-the-scenes shit he’s been handling for me. Not that he would ever take it. I think he’d rather chew off his own arm than leave me.
The driver drops my guard and me off at the door of a swanky restaurant, and although the doorman and maître d’ are polite, an undercurrent of tension is in the air. It looks like therestaurant has been rented out just for our party, and although it’s not unusual for meetings like this, and I’ve done it many times myself, something seems off.
“Your tables are right this way, Madam, and I hope—”
“Ah, Miss Taranova, I’m so sorry I can’t stay any longer. Please know that lunch for you and your men is on me, and eat and drink to your heart’s content.”
Javier Lopez, the man I was scheduled to meet today, is on his way out of the restaurant in a hurry, albeit seemingly in good spirits. I’ve wanted to nip any possible animosity between our families in the bud, particularly since his wife is remotely related to the de la Rosa family. With everything that went down between them and Ellie’s family…I don’t want any needless violence at the beginning of my new reign.
“Mr. Lopez, thank you for coming. I was hoping to speak to you—”
“No need, sweetheart.”
Oh, fuck you.
“You’re incredibly lucky to have such a man as a future father-in-law, I’ll tell you that. He’s gotten me to sign off on all sorts of shit today, even deals I’m taking losses on. But it’ll be better for all of us in the long run. With him at the helm, you won’t have to worry about anything but staying home and growing babies. Lucky, lucky girl!”
Double fuck you.
With that odious monologue complete, he’s out the front door, men in tow, a cloud of his sickly sweet cologne threatening to choke me as my anger bubbles to the surface. It takes only a few seconds to calm myself, burying my emotions and tapping into the darkest, hardest part of myself. I barely have time to send a quick text before the person who’s just signed his death warrant jovially bursts into the room.
“Mila, darling. Don’t stand in the doorway, come. We have much to celebrate and catch up on.”
Fucking Zadorov.Of course. I should have known that when Lopez said “future father-in-law,” he meant this snake. A quick scan of my periphery confirms that this place is packed with his men, so I plaster a smile on my face and prepare to play a chess match I had no clue was coming.
“Zakhar, it’s always a pleasure to see you. Even if I wasn’t expecting you today. Do you mind if I visit the ladies’ room before we begin?”
With pleasantries out of the way, I signal to my bodyguard to stay behind and make my way to the bathroom. It’s a show of trust to go alone, although if any of Zadorov’s men think they can take me, I’m not concerned about his plotting at all.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swear under my breath to see Misha’s reply to my emergency text.
Misha:Not sure, calling Ace. The plumbers may not have dug deep enough. Neighbors invited us to stay with them in the meantime. We’ll have to accept. Can’t stay here.
Fuck.
His text would read as nonsense to anyone tapping our phones, but the fact he felt it necessary is concerning. More concerning is what his message means. Ace is our code name for Ivan, and if Misha is involving him, it means he didn’t know anything about Zadorov’s plan.
Worse is the rest. Basically, we didn’t dig deep enough into Zakhar, and he’s gotten some sort of upper hand. I’ll have to play really fucking nice today to try to figure it out.Or at least try tolive long enough to regroup.I steel myself and head back into the restaurant.
“There you are, I was about to come check on you. Here, sit down. I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“I am curious, yes. Although given how happy Lopez seemed on the way out, I’ll admit to being thankful that you’ve apparently deftly handled a prickly associate for me.”
My praise momentarily takes him by surprise, and his jovial facade breaks, shrewd eyes narrowing as he tries to determine my angle. He recovers in a blink, laughing it off and waving a dismissive hand.
“Oh, it was no trouble, my dear. I figured that anything that I could do to lighten your load would be appreciated. I’ve gotten Mr. Lopez to sign a contract, as you can see here, offering us very generous terms. Much better than you were expecting, I’m sure.”
He slides a folder across the table to me, and a quick scan confirms that the termsaregenerous. To theZadorov Bratva.My stomach drops at his slimy smirk.Fuck, this is about to go from bad to worse.
“I also made some real strides in other areas that had been vexing you. Here are more contracts with…”
Folder after folder slides across the table, indeed showing that plenty of people who were assholes to me at the negotiation table have been willing to bend over backward to make a deal with Zakhar and the fuckingZadorov Bratva.Photos of Thatcher on his way to and from practice chill me to my core, but the final folder is the worst. Nausea and panic flood my senses, and tears fill my eyes before I regain control. These pictures shouldn’t exist anymore…we destroyed everything, I swear.Fighting the sinking feeling that I can still recall from all those years ago, when I was so little…shit.
