Page 35 of King of War

Ivan has no reason to kill me, and I have every reason to talk to him. He’s young and ambitious, but by no means stupid, and I’m certain his allegiance to the don is fragile at best. Not to mention it is fucking hotter than hell out here today. I glance at the two goons in the front seat. Three against one? I’ve had worse odds.

Ivan slides along the seat allowing me room and I climb into the car, closing the door behind me. The windows all roll up at the same time. I wait for him to speak.

“It is not ideal we are meeting in such circumstances.” He indicates he’s talking about being in the back of a car. “Usually a vodka would be shared, yes?”

“Depends on the reason for the meeting, I guess.”

The left corner of his mouth lifts up in a half smirk. “Let us not beat around rosebush. Carmine is don, but you are the man with the power. The connections in this city?”

Seems like the pakhan definitely doesn’t have shit for brains at all. I should let Micah know. “And who told you that?”

He shakes his head. “Nobody. Is what I observe for myself.” He shifts in his seat, turning his body so that he’s facing me. “Falcone is…” He sucks on his teeth. “How you say it here? He is snake.”

“You’re calling the don a snake?”

He nods, unbothered by the accusation. “You killed the Bertellis.” It’s a statement, and I bristle at his words, because just what the fuck has Carmine told him? He lifts an eyebrow. “And also Vinny?”

“Joseph Bertelli killed Vinny,” I say, my voice steady, my tone calm.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” He taps the side of his head, like he’s admonishing himself for forgetting such an important fact. Clearly, he suspects otherwise. “It was not a waste though. Falcone’s son was…” Again he appears to search for the word before announcing, “idiot.”

Okay, so Ivan definitely does have his finger on the pulse, but this is growing tiresome. “Did you ask me in here to tell me things I already know, or is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?”

He smiles now, a full one that reveals his pristine white teeth—almost too many for one mouth, like a shark. “I like you. You are direct. Like Russian.” He says this like it’s a compliment. “I do not like your boss. Do not trust him. And you should not trust him either.”

“That’s quite the statement to make. Do you have any evidence to back it up?”

“Evidence!” He laughs, loud and booming. “He wants evidence.” That’s obviously aimed at his two men in the front of the car, who chuckle at their boss’s joke.

“My patience for this conversation is wearing very thin. Unless you have something of actual importance to say, I’m leaving.”

He stops laughing, his expression deadly serious again. “Your boss has been looking for a…” He frowns, barks something at his men in Russian.

The driver replies. “Partnership.”

Ivan nods. “He wants a partnership. Russia and Italy. He says he will give me new territory for this.” He shakes his head. “But we work side by side, yes. We do not work together. Your don, he is scared of losing power. He is weak, like scared animal who is looking for bigger animal to protect him. He is rabbit. I am bear.”

He was a snake a few minutes ago. What is it with this guy and animal analogies? “Carmine is no rabbit, and he doesn’t need a bear to protect him.”

His eyes narrow. “No, not when he has lion by his side. But weak rabbits are foolish. Scared. It makes them look at lion who has been friend and feel only fear and not protection. So they make alliance with bear to destroy lion.”

Despite the bizarre animal metaphors, I understand exactly what he’s saying. “Carmine wants you to destroy me?”

He leans closer. “I will not take fall for kills that were not mine, Enzo. It is not in my nature to cheat. I told Carmine this already.”

Ivan’s right, Carmine is a fucking snake. “And let me guess, you told him this already? Before the hit on the Bertellis?”

He nods. And if Ivan is telling the truth, Carmine has just lied to my fucking face. That means the entire conversation he and I just had was what? He was fucking placating me. Me? The man who actually knows where all of the bodies are buried? I can only deduce that he plans on adding me to that number, and also doesn’t give a fuck that it’s also me who’s kept him alive for the past ten years. Devious fucker! “So, what exactly does he intend to tell the other families then?”

“I do not know. But he tell me I will not be held responsible. That Italy and Russia will have long partnership. I do not want alliance with Carmine Falcone. A man who will sacrifice his people for own power is not a man I trust.” He looks me dead in the eye. “I want alliance with new don. Enzo Medici.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Even if Carmine is removed from power, I won’t be the don.”

He laughs again. Psychotic fucker. “We will see, yes?”

Why the hell does Ivan Volkov seem to know more than I do about whatever the hell Carmine is up to? Frustration simmers beneath my skin, making me want to go back there and tear the don’s head off his fucking shoulders. For some reason, I hear Rayne’s voice in my head, telling me not to make rash decisions and trust my instincts. It throws me off balance because I haven’t had her in my head like that for a long fucking time.

I take a breath. Focus. Remind myself who I’m supposed to be, and who I’m talking to. “I have no idea what your goal is here, Ivan, but stay the fuck out of my business. And if you make any kind of move against the don, I won’t hesitate to put you down.”