Page 66 of Brazen King

Not that I think he will.

Lucian Agosti is smarter than that.

“This is your headquarters, then?” I ask as we step onto the private elevator he calls.

“Hardly, but it’s comfortable and convenient, so I thought you wouldn’t mind a change of scenery.” Lucian’s practiced smile is as perfect as his hair, groomed until nothing’s out of place.

My eyes narrow as my suspicion starts to grow. Still, I follow him off the elevator at the fiftieth floor, and he shows me down the hall. One of his men opens the office door for us, revealing a spacious room with a table occupying most of the space. Upwards of twenty chairs surround the table, all looking uniform and exceedingly comfortable.

But the wall of windows looking out over the city is what captures my eye. He has a great view of the Central Park Tower from here—the building where the Sokolovs live. Where Natasha likely is right now.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lucian asks, following my line of sight.

“I’ve seen better,” I say cheekily, and behind me, Lance snorts.

Amusement curls Lucian’s lips, and it’s nice to see he has something of a sense of humor as well. Though, now that I think about it, that proved true when I burst in on his meeting with Boris as well.

“I assume you didn’t bring me here to discuss views,” I observe, pulling out one of the chairs and settling into it. And just to get a rise out of Lucian, I lean back to prop my feet on hisimmaculate conference table. “Your man mentioned something about discussing a deal?”

An alliance with the Italians wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. They’ve got the men when it comes to sheer numbers, so staying on good terms with them would be smart. Not to mention good for business. I would prefer to work with men I trust—which currently isnotLucian. But from what I understand, he’s a man of his word on the rare occasion that he decides to give it.

Considering him thoughtfully, I watch Lucian as he sinks into a chair on the other side of the table. With a flick of his fingers, he signals one of his men. And in a flash, the man knocks my feet off the table. Lance steps forward, immediately ready for combat. But I stop him with a gesture as I laugh.

“So, what is this deal I’m here to discuss?”

I watch Lucian keenly, though I feign disinterest. Because, while I won’t give him the upper hand by admitting it, I am intrigued by what he has to say.

If I intend to keep developing the Kings’ strength, I need to make big business moves. And with no progress on the Sokolov front—which it’s starting to look like I might never achieve an alliance with Boris—I need to find another way to expand my empire.

That means, right now, if I don’t want to negotiate with the Italians, my only other option would be to challenge the Sokolovs outright. And that’s the last thing I want. For more reasons than just Natasha, though she’s quickly becoming my most convincing one.

“I thought we might attempt a joint business venture, combine our families’ strengths to handle a few…roadblocks in the way New York is currently being run,” he says tactfully.

Quirking an eyebrow, I lean forward to rest my elbows on the table. “Speak English, Lucian,” I command.

“You’ve got the connections. I’ve got the men. Together, we could run this town.”

That’s about as plain as it gets, and I sense the direction he’s going even if he’s not ready to come right out and say it. “You want to run the Sokolovs out of town.”

“Out of business,” he corrects. “They’re a well-respected family. But Boris refuses to play nice, and I think it’s time he faces the fact that he’s not the only man in New York with power and influence anymore.”

“‘Refuses to play nice’?” I ask, plucking the words from his statement.Does that mean he’s been attempting—and failing at—an alliance with the Russians as well?

“I heard your little speech at their charity ball. And while I probably would have recommended going about it a different way, I share your sentiment. In fact, I approached Boris about marrying his eldest daughter, Tatiana, not long ago, but the old man turned me down flat.”

“Really?”

It’s not surprising that Boris turned Lucian down, considering the old codger doesn’t appear to wantanyoneto marry his daughters. But for some reason, I’m surprised Lucian approached him in the first place.

“He’s stuck in the past, guarding his daughters like a medieval lord. Only he’s forgotten the whole point of keeping them locked in his tower is to save them for a good match. And by the time he dies, they’ll be shriveled old maids, no longer suitable for marriage.”

Lucian’s lips curl into a cynical smile, and I bark a surprised laugh. It’s not the worst analogy I’ve heard, and I can picture it. Only, I’m not so sure Lucian has the Sokolov girls figured. Not like I do.

And I’m not about to give away my best-kept secret.

Not to anyone. But certainly not to the pretentious Italian.

Still, I imagine Tatiana is much like her sister in the fact that no man is going to dictate who they marry. Not even their father.

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