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I narrow my eyes, grab Oleg’s phone, and snarl, “Your time is what I tell you it’s worth, Belov. Oleg is your contact, and if you want my help, you will show him the respect he deserves.”

“He’s not a Pakhan like you and me⁠—”

“You are not a Pakhan either, asshole,” I bark, silencing him. “Do not ever think that you and I will be equals, Simeon. You are nothing but what I will make you, are we fucking clear?”

“Yes, of course, Ilya. I didn’t mean any disrespect, but I do need to point out that when we kill my father, I’ll be Pakhan of his territory, so technically, that will make us equals. So we might as well start⁠—”

“Do not try me, boy,” I sneer. “Even if this goes off and your father is dead, that doesn’t mean the men will accept you. Not to mention, you will never have the power or reputation I have. You will always be lower than me. Do not piss me off, Simeon.”

“Yeah, I heard something about a bomb almost taking you out. I tell you, man, you can’t trust those Mexican motherfuckers. They’re always going to try and pull a fast one. You’re lucky you guys found it in time.”

The look I give Oleg could melt steel. He’s close enough he can hear Simeon, and his expression goes hard and foreboding, eyes narrowing and gaze locked on the phone like he can bore the information out of him. It looks like we have a rat of our own to flush out.

“Luck has nothing to do with it, Simeon,” I state. “I suggest you remember that. Especially considering you’ve been ducking my calls.”

A pause. “Oh, ah, no, I wasn’t,” he rushes out. “Seriously, Ilya, my father has been a bear all week, and I didn’t want to risk him seeing or overhearing me call you. Or one of his men. I have to be careful. Especially since I’ve heard back from the Chameleon⁠—”

“What?” I hiss, seething.

“Oh, ah, yeah, a couple days ago. They said they’d take the job and send through instructions soon. It’s just a waiting game.”

“Simeon, you better fucking tell me what that message said or send it to me right now, or I’ll have my men come over and drag you out of your fucking apartment by the balls before they slice them off and feed them to you in front of all those whores you’re currently entertaining.”

“How did you—” A hard swallow, and my words sink in. I already know exactly what he’s doing, and he’s realizing he can’t hide from me. Not even in his own home. Good. The fucker needs a healthy dose of fear. “Ah, yeah, okay, I’ll text you the message. One sec.”

My phone dings on my desk, and I pick it up, looking at the messages. My irritation and unease rise as I read through the brief messages. This fucker is that damn stupid to have added an assassin’s contact information in his phone, code name and all.

Chameleon: Job is affirmed. Payment in full is required. $15M

Simeon: That’s steep. How about I pay half now and send the rest when you complete the job?

Chameleon: Full payment or the contract is finished. As are you.

Simeon: Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Can’t blame a guy for negotiating. The mark of a great leader, right? I’ll get the money wired tonight. I just have to be careful it won’t be spotted.

Chameleon: Not my problem. Once payment is received, I will send you next steps.

Simeon: It’s been sent. Please confirm receipt.

Simeon (1 day later): Hello?

Simeon (2 days later): Come on, dude, tell me that you got the money and what the next steps are, or I’m going to think you took the money and ran.

Simeon (yesterday): Fine, don’t tell me. But if you fuck me over, I’ll be the one hiring someone to take you out for breach of contract. Won’t other people just love knowing the great Chameleon they’re so afraid of is a big con artist?

Chameleon (today 5:15 PM): Payment has been received. We’ll see if you live by the end of it.

Simeon: Oh, is that some kind of threat? I’m not scared of you. Just do your job.

“You absolute idiot,” I seethe. “I should kill you now and get it over with. Not only have you fucking pissed off an assassin, but you’ve also got them in your fucking phone. Delete those messages. Now. Wipe your phone, and get a new one, including a new SIM.” I show them to Oleg and Zakhar, who both curse viciously.

“It’s not that big of a deal, man. Look, I get it, I got heated, and I’ll do all that, but they’re doing the job, right? That’s what matters.”

Seething, I hiss, “If they contact you again, do not fucking answer until you’ve spoken with me. You don’t so much as twitch or take a shit without my approval, or I will pull out, and you can deal with your father on your own.”

I finally sense he’s realizing how much he’s fucked up. “Okay, fine.” He sighs. “Look, the first step is for them to get Rayea, so that means they’re going to do that. We’re closer to getting this done now. Once I bring her back to my father, this whole thing will be a slam dunk for us.”

He’s a fucking idiot, but I don’t dissuade him of that notion. After all, he won’t be alive himself much longer. If not by my hand, by a pissed-off assassin. “Get it done, Simeon. And if you ever hold back any information, I’ll make you pay for it. Are we clear?”