Page 20 of Stricken

"That's not what I asked for," Vartan screeches. "I want our money back, not some vague promise of future profits."

"I hear you." Then I turn my attention to Arman, sensing the David's son is more receptive to the idea. "Mr. Avagyan, what's your opinion on this? We're talking about a long-term operation. It's a chance to not only settle the debt but forge a lasting partnership between our families."

Arman's eyes are filled with interest, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the arm of the couch. "I'm considering it," he says, something a lot like a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He is so easy to persuade. "In fact, I'd be interested in making this a permanent arrangement."

My heartbeat fastens, but I keep my expression neutral. "I'm authorized to commit to a five-year deal."

"Seven," Vartan interjects, his voice sharp.

Arman shoots him a look.

Vartan's face is a mask of skepticism. "And what about the risks? The drug market is volatile. If we get caught, the consequences would be... severe."

I nod, acknowledging his concerns. "We've developed a comprehensive risk mitigation strategy. Our transportation methods are discreet, utilizing a network of trusted contacts across multiple countries. We've got people in law enforcement, customs, and politicians on our payroll."

The tension in the room thickens. I can feel Costa's eyes boring into my back, silently urging me to close this deal so we could both get out of here.

"Something can always go wrong," Vartan grumbles.

"Then we have contingency plans," I assure him, my voice steady despite the churning in my gut.

The discussion intensifies, voices rising and falling like waves against a rocky shore. We debate percentages, timelines, and fail-safes. It's a delicate dance, each step potentially leading to ruin or riches.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, we reach a compromise.

"Five years," I say, "with the option to renegotiate after that. You get ten percent."

Arman nods. "Agreed." I can almost see it written all over his face—easy money. He is getting way more than he loaned Roberto. All he has to do is sit back and watch the green roll in.

Vartan's expression remains stony, but he gives a curt nod of assent. No matter how much power he holds in David Avagyan's organization, Arman is both David's son and heir. His approval solidifies the arrangement.

Still, I rise to my feet, extending my hand to Vartan. Gotta respect the elders. His grip is like iron, crushing my fingers as we shake. His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into mine. For a moment, I see the ruthless killer beneath the polished exterior. And I can understand why my father and he have been friends. If concept of friendship is even possible for people like them.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Morelli," Vartan says, his voice devoid of said pleasure.

I force a smile. "Likewise."

Turning to Arman, I offer my hand. His shake is firm but less aggressive, his smile more genuine. "Looking forward to our partnership."

"As am I," I reply, thinking that I can't wait for the old man who came with him to kick the bucket.

As they leave along with their entourage, the tension in the room dissipates. I relax back onto the leather couch.

Costa approaches, a glass of whiskey in hand. "Well done,Padrino," he murmurs, passing me the drink.

I take a long swig, relishing the searing heat. "We're in bed with yet another devil now," I mutter. "Because of thatstupido, Roberto."

"Better the devil we know," Costa replies.

I nod, my mind already racing ahead. We've bought time, saved Roberto's ass, and potentially opened up a nasty can of worms. Being indebted to the Armenians for five whole years is bad. But it's either that or Uncle Tony loses one of his sons.

As I stare into the amber depths of my whiskey, a face flashes in my mind. Vlad Solovey. I wonder if he'll show up tonight. The thought sends an anticipatory shiver down my spine.

"What now?" Costa asks.

I drain my glass and stand. "Now, I'm going to have another drink downstairs and you'll wait for me outside."

CHAPTER6

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