Page 92 of King’s Ransom

Then he’d cheated on Wife No. 3 with the teenage nanny.

For most men, such consistent infidelity would prove to be very expensive in divorces, but I suspected King also had an answer for that.

‘Do you have a pre-nup with Aristo King?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’

‘What do you get in the event of divorce?’

‘I get $200,000 per year, plus a residence. He pays for the children’s living costs—schooling, clothing, et cetera—which is about half a million per year.’

I nodded.

For a guy worth hundreds of billions of dollars, this was a pittance.

He’d completely screwed Yasmina in the pre-nup, as wealthy guys with armies of attorneys often did with beautiful young models who were ‘in love’.

‘Do you know if his other wives got similar deals in their pre-nups?’

Yasmina shrugged. ‘I only know what Ari told me a few times. Winnie did much better, since they were young when they got married and since she helped build their first company. She’s a billionaire in her own right.

‘Shelby, the second one—she was once his executive assistant and she has a law degree from Brown—so she cut a better deal. This is why she has houses in Vail and all that.’

Yasmina looked down again.

‘I was not as smart. I have no degrees. Just my looks. I was young and naive when I met Aristo and he swept me off my feet with all the jets and dinners and trips to Paris. And romantic enough to believe that our love was forever, so I just signed the pre-nup when it was put in front of me.’

I nodded.

This was also common among younger second and third wives.

The husband—wealthy and worldly—had his attorneys draft the pre-nuptial agreement. The new young wife—starry-eyed and dazzled and, most of the time, entering into her first marriage—signed it thinking it would never be used.

It was almost always used.

For my purposes, however, it meant that Aristo King had no financial reason to set up Yasmina.

Divorcing her wouldn’t impact him at all.

And he’d walked out on two previous marriages without having to elaborately set up those wives.

Then there were the Russians.

‘Your Russian blackmailers,’ I said. ‘Who were they exactly?’

‘They worked for Roman Oberov, leader of Brighton Beach Bratva. Oberov is very powerful and ruthless man. Rules underworld of Coney Island like a, uh, shadow king. On one occasion, I had to deliver blackmail money to him at his apartment on top floor of Huntington Project Tower out by amusement park.’

The Brighton Bratva.

Xiao had mentioned them: they’d been connected to his case involving the Grandmaster, the one concerning the Chinese crypto influencer who’d been crushed under his own Ferrari.

‘And you never met anyone named Sergei Kazan, the Grandmaster?’

‘No. I’d not even heard of anyone by that name till after that terrible day in tower last week.’

‘Okay.’ I stood up. ‘I need to go and look into a few things.’

Then I stopped.