Stefan adjusted his tie, took a sip of coffee, and then cleared his throat.
“We have a problem,” he said. “A very big one.”
Even though I’d been expecting it, my heart still sank.
“Of course we do. What is it this time?” Luka asked, running a hand over his face. He suddenly looked as nerve-racked as I felt. We’d been through so much over the past year, and every time things started getting better, we were hit with some heinous new catastrophe.
“This…is much worse than anything we’ve dealt with before,” Stefan said. “I don’t even know how to say it.”
“If you could figure it out soon, it’d be much appreciated,” I said dryly. “I have a nail appointment at noon.”
Luka shot me an eye roll, which I knew I deserved, but you couldn’t blame me for trying to insert a little levity after hearing something so heavy and ominous.
“This is the thing. Despite dismantling KZM’s operations here in the US, the trafficking organization Dad was a part of is still active internationally,” Stefan said. “It’s thriving.”
“Okay…” Luka said. “And this affects us how?”
Stefan’s lips thinned into a hard line, and all of a sudden I thought I knew what was coming next. Dread curled low in my belly, and I pushed my pastry away, suddenly nauseated.
“The organization is not pleased that they’ve now lost one of their biggest outposts,” Stefan went on. “I’ve been contacted by the Bratva.”
Luka let out a long breath, and my jaw fell open. Even I knew who the Bratva were.
“The Russian mob?” I blurted. “Fuck. We’re dead.”
Stefan nodded. “We’ve cost them money with Danica Rose going legitimate, and they have now determined a dollar amount equivalent to what we owe them. Our debt, as they put it.”
“This is bullshit!” Luka exploded. “We don’t owe them a goddamn thing. We’re not like KZ. We don’t have to roll around in the muck with them anymore.”
“Unfortunately, that is not how they see it,” Stefan said.
He took out a piece of paper and wrote something on it.
“This is what they believe is owed to them,” he said before passing it to Luka.
“Jesus Christ.” Luka looked like he was going to be sick. “This can’t be real.”
He passed it to me and my eyes bugged out at the number.
It was impossible.
We’d worked so hard, as a family, to get this business into the clear, to drag it free from my father’s corrupt hands, and now this?
“We don’t have this kind of money,” I said. “And even if we did…we can’t just hand it over to them.”
“There must be something we can do,” Luka said.
Stefan took the piece of paper from me and tore it into pieces.
“This informationdoes notleave the room we’re in,” he said. “There’s a reason that Tori and Brooklyn aren’t here. They don’t need to know anything about this. Got it?”
Luka and I nodded, even though I was barely paying attention. All I could think about was the money. That the Russian mob wanted. From us. The Bratva—the Brotherhood—was nothing to be fucked with. I knew the cruelty, the violence, the inhumanity they were capable of.
And I knew they wouldn’t hesitate to act if someone got in their way. Danica Rose Management was, apparently, in their way.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
Stefan said, “Look. I know this is…”
