Page 50 of Vendetta Crown

"Your brother was always paranoid," Gregor dismisses with a wave. "He saw shadows where there were none."

"Then explain to me how everything is shaping up so conveniently for Semyon. How Mikonov men have been inserted so seamlessly onto Potyomkin's turf without a word of protest from theVori.How you were so adamant that I marry Tamara when all that did was delay the inevitable moment for when Semyon might take over. How the rest of theVorithought I wasdeadwhile I was still in the hospital."

My face twists from the smile into something darker.

"It's almost as if you're working with him."

Gregor's nostrils flare, the only sign that I've hit a nerve.

"Careful, Ruslan Vitalyevich." His voice drops to a whisper. "You're making dangerous accusations."

"What did Semyon promise you, Gregor Iosifovich?" My voice cuts through the tension. "What was worth betraying decades of your own hard work?"

Gregor's eyes flash with indignation. "I don't entertain hypothetical questions, especially those that presume guilt."

"I have no desire to make an enemy out of you." I pour myself another finger of vodka, letting the crystal catch the light. "In fact, I'd prefer your friendship."

He laughs—the sound harsh and disbelieving. "You accuse me of treason against theVori, and then claim you want to be my friend? At least your father and brother were direct in their hostility for me."

"My only desire is to keep my family safe. My nieces, my wife." I take a slow sip, feeling the burn. "And my unborn child."

I watch the information land. Another card on the table.

"And you think threatening me accomplishes this?"

"No." I set my glass down with a soft click. "But tell me, are you aware of who Semyon is making inroads with beyond our circles? Besides his friends in the Triads?"

Gregor stares back, his silence calculated.

"Silence is its own confession, Gregor Iosifovich." I stand, no longer caring if he sees me wince. "The man Semyon now works with—a Kristofer Christensen—has made my wife's life a living hell. He murdered her family. He would have raped her if Potyomkin hadn't intervened."

Gregor's eyes widen slightly at this, but he doesn't interrupt.

"I will not stop until this man is destroyed." My voice drops, each word deliberate and weighted with promise. "And when it's done, I'd prefer you remain a friend, because the alternative..."

I lean closer, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The alternative is that you'll face the full brunt of my revenge for every second my wife has spent in fear, for every scar on my body, for every tear my nieces have shed for their dead father and brother."

Gregor's eyes flick down to his empty glass. The silence stretches between us like a rubber band pulled taut.

"Semyon approached me." His voice comes out strained, like each word costs him. "Six weeks before your brother's death."

My hands clench into fists. "And?"

"He described a vision where the Triads and theVoricould exist in harmony." Gregor's gaze lifts to meet mine, no longer the calculating predator I've known for decades. "No more territory disputes, no more bloody skirmishes over products and territory. Just clean business along clean lines."

"And in exchange?" The words scrape my throat raw.

"He wanted his pound of flesh." Gregor's shoulders slump slightly. "Control of the Dragunov weapon pipeline. But I suspect he simply wanted to avenge Denis' failures at the hands of your father."

Rage explodes through me like white-hot shrapnel. I slam my fist onto the desk, sending papers scattering.

"You sanctioned the murder of my brother and nephew!" I roar. "For fuckingbusiness?"

"No, Ruslan, I chose to save theVorifrom a long and bloody war," Gregor says, suddenly looking every one of his seventy years. "Lev would never relinquish control of the shipments. And Mikhail? That boy worshipped his father. He would have followed the same path."

My vision blurs red at the edges. I'm across the room before I realize I've moved, grabbing Gregor by his immaculate crimson shirt.

---