Page 154 of Emerald Malice

Leaving me with a gaping chasm of dread in the pit of my stomach.

55

ANDREY

Shura and Vaska are already waiting at the entrance of The Capital Hotel when I arrive.

Shura’s impassive scowl is in direct contrast to Vaska’s ear-to-ear grin. Bastard looks like Christmas came early. After weeks of bed rest, followed by months of rehabilitation, I don’t blame him. It must feel like a blessing to be on his feet again.

We clasp hands. “Vaska—you look good, brother.”

He’s practically foaming at the mouth, bouncing from heel to heel with excitement. “I feel good, sir. It’s about time I saw some action.”

If all goes well, there won’t be any action today, but I keep that to myself as I lead my men through The Capital’s arched doorways.

I don’t need to ask Shura if our prospective partners have arrived. The number of security teams I pass as we make our way to the Executive Lounge tells me that all three men are here, punctual as ever.

I assign my men to positions at the various doors before I step into the lounge with only Shura at my side.

The large, opulent room is empty, apart from the three men who rise to their feet when I enter. It took a lot of effort and a fuck ton of bribery to get these three to the table. Like Vaska, though, I’m damn near giddy with excitement at what we stand on the precipice of accomplishing.

Cevdet Bakirtzis controls a trafficking pipeline that runs through the Midwest. He inherited his mafia after his father’s death when he was only twenty-three years old. But he single-handedly expanded the empire across Chicago and Denver. He’s the main reason my shipments get to their chosen destinations without a problem.

Luca Giordano has cornered the drug market all along the West Coast. Very Italian and very proud, he was the last to come around to a partnership with me, but once he saw how fruitful it would be with him, even he couldn’t resist.

Bujar Mustafi was the easiest to convince. The soft-spoken Albanian used to be in production himself before my superior product and cheaper cost effectively cut him off at the knees. He rallied fast and fell into step as a smuggler who controls most of the South, his tendrils snaking into damn near every town between here and the Florida Keys.

“Ah, the young pakhan is finally here,” Cevdet booms, offering me a meaty hand.

He likes to get in ahead of the game, Cevdet does. That usually involves a lot of snide jabs at the expense of both Bujar and Luca, but he’s well-behaved thus far. Every man present knows that their own operations depend on the moving cogs in our shared partnership.

One way or another, I’m walking out of here with what I want.

It’s up to them if that’s through business or through blood.

The table is already littered with coffee mugs. The smell of bourbon is emanating from Luca’s gold-trimmed cup.

“I apologize, gentlemen. I didn’t realize I was late to the party.”

“You’re not late,” Cevdet announces. “I’m always early.”

“And since Cevdet is always early, Bujar and I decided not to let him show us up,” Luca quips.

Cevdet twirls a finger through his massive handlebar mustache and laughs heartily. Luca’s laughter is more of a wheeze, whereas you’d be hard-pressed to hear Bujar’s laugh at all.

They’re a motley crew. But an effective one.

Which is how I know that Nikolai Rostov would stand to gain a lot by destroying the alliance I’ve managed to create.

“I hate to dive straight into business,” I say, “but we might as well get it out of the way.”

Bujar is the only one who looks like he appreciates the straightforwardness. His thin lips tighten with satisfaction as he sits up a little straighter.

“Oh, very well,” Luca mutters as he picks up his coffee-spiked bourbon. “You Russians can’t carry a casual conversation to save your lives. I assume we’re here to talk about the Rostov stronzo?”

My eyes narrow. “I came to discuss shipments. It seems you know something I don’t, Luca. Care to share with the class?”

Luca smiles, flashing his freshly-whitened teeth for my benefit. “Now, now, Andrey, there’s no need to be testy. I’m unequivocally your man.”