Page 19 of Doll Face

He had no idea, so he was going to ignore the question until he couldn’t.

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Reznikov’s soldiers filtered into the warehouse, checking that everything was secure, before allowing the pakhan to enter. Matteo wasn’t without his own men, including Rocco who stood by his side. A dozen large crates were stacked neatly behind him.

The Russian mob boss himself was a large, lethal looking man. His knuckles were crisscrossed with scars, telling a story without words of his brutal life. A tattoo of three swords was on the back of one hand, with intricate designs fading under the cuff of his shirt sleeve. He wasn’t a man Matteo wanted to piss off.

“Matteo Romanelli, we meet again,” Reznikov said in a loud, boisterous voice.

“You mean when I lost a hefty bet on one of your fights,” Matteo replied dryly with a nod of remembrance.

“Da. Good times, eh?” He chuckled before lifting his chin toward the crates. “You bring the merchandise?”

Matteo gestured behind him. “It’s all there.”

Reznikov glanced at a man directly behind him, who hurried forward to inspect the crates. Rocco moved with the man while Matteo stayed put, staring at the pakhan. After a few minutes, the man returned to whisper something in Reznikov’s ear. The big Russian nodded and smiled at Matteo.

“My advisor advises that I make this deal.”

“Brand new and unmarked, straight from the factory,” Matteo said.

“And how much do you want for them?”

“Two mil.”

Reznikov didn’t show any outward emotion. “One.”

“One seventy-five.”

“One and a half.”

Matteo smirked. “Deal.”

He held out his hand and Reznikov shook it, the larger man’s beefy hands almost squashing his own. Suddenly, he was yanked forward and the Russian asked in a low tone.

“How come you don’t want them yourself?”

“The Romanelli House isn’t interested in gun running. We’ll leave that for your bratva.”

Reznikov laughed and eased back. “As a middleman you drive a hard bargain. This partnership could be profitable for both our organizations.”

Matteo knew he was offering exclusive negotiations for the future. “I agree.”

Reznikov stepped back and snapped his fingers. A small man practically jumped forward and held out a tablet. Matteo took it and entered the routing numbers for the transfer. A moment later, Rocco held out his phone to show the money had been sent.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Matteo said, smiling.

“Dasvidaniya.”

He turned away, blatantly dismissing him. Matteo held up his index finger and gave a swirling motion, and just as quickly and efficiently as his men had arrived, they departed. Rocco followed as he left the warehouse.

“That’ll make your dad happy,” Rocco said.

“Nothing makes my father happy,” Matteo muttered.

“True. Okay, make him less of an asshole.”

“Better. Come on, I’ve gotta see Doc.”

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