Page 6 of Brazen King

Iwilluse it to provoke Boris into making a move—rash or otherwise. I just need one opening to claim Manhattan as King territory.

Because what I said at the ball wasn’t entirely out of place. Boris Sokolov is in the back nine of his reign. And he has no son to carry on his family business.

Archaic and misogynistic as it might sound, our world of criminals and mobsters doesn’t have the capacity to allow daughters into our ruling ranks.

So, if Boris doesn’t choose while he’s still strong, he and his daughters will watch as the entire thing crumbles.

“Get out,” Boris states flatly, his expression livid. “Both of you. This meeting is over. Never in my life have I witnessed the depravity a bottom feeder will go to.”

Surprised that he’s kicking Lucian out as well when I was under the impression their meeting was an amicable one, I cast a sidelong glance in his direction.

And this time, the Italian don looks icily displeased.

“My empire belongs to me and the Sokolov family. And my daughters will never marry if you’re the best this world has to offer. You’re both scheming, conniving vultures!”

A swarm of Sokolov men burst into the room from a door at the back of the lounge area—opposite the one my men helped me break in through. And I can tell it’s time to go.

Kicking my feet to the floor, I give Lance the signal to move out and rise from my chair. Then I offer Boris one last parting smile. “Until next time, then, old man.”

I dip through the door, confident that even if I didn’t make progress in negotiations, I at least got under thepakhan’s skin. Still, I’m burning with curiosity to know what his meeting with Lucian was about. Suddenly, I’m less sure that their alliance is any more of a reality than the one I offered.

I’m determined to gain control of Manhattan, one way or another, but now, I wonder if Lucian’s aims might be more on par with mine than I’d bargained for.

3

NATASHA

“No really, Russ just stood there, staring at me, mouth open, face red. And it’s like all his words just came rushing out at once,” Tatiana explains, sending me and our mother into a fit of giggles as she relives her latest experience of having a man attempt to ask her out.

It’s the perfect story to distract us from the fact that Papa’s running late for dinner.

“I’m pretty sure he asked if my date wanted a meal I would never forget—his question made about that much sense.”

“Poor guy!” Mama chuckles, her fingers delicately hiding her smile. “He must have been so flustered. But really, can you blame him?”

“And you just turned him down flat?” I snicker.

“Who has time for romance? Besides, he’s not my type.” Tatiana flips her auburn hair over her shoulder and settles comfortably against the back of the wingtip chair she’s occupying.

Fair enough. The business tycoon is one of those shifty-eyed nervous guys whose palms are always sweating.

Papa would never condone it anyway. The guy works for one of our rivals in the concrete industry, which serves as our main source of legitimate income.

Dating Russ Highwater would be as counterproductive to our image and empire as having a relationship with one of the reigning mafia bosses in the surrounding New York boroughs.

Speaking of which …

Just the thought of said mafia bosses gives me a headache.

Until recently, I always thought the worst possible mafia boss to show interest in Tatiana was Saturo Takumi, head of the yakuza who rule over the Bronx.

Not only is he nearly twice my sister’s age—but the yakuza are notorious backstabbers. She would have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of her life if she accepted his proposal.

Then again, that might not be the worst option now that Killian King has come out of the woodwork.

I always thought of the ruggedly handsome Irishman as kind of roguishly cheeky, maybe a bit devil-may-care about things I deem worthy of deeper consideration. I saw him as entertaining in a wild, reckless kind of way.

But now?After weeks of his constant antagonizing acts, I don’t know which would be worse. Certainly, Russ Highwater of High Street Concrete and Construction couldn’t be as bad as either the Japanese or the Irish mafia leaders.

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