Page 75 of Royal Beast
Rory leans back in his chair, his voice cold. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”
Anatoly’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I think you know why we’re here. Your family is pushing boundaries. If this keeps up, it won’t end well for any of us.”
“Funny,” Rory retorts, his tone razor-sharp. “I was about to say the same about you. Or did you forget what your men pulled just last week?”
Tension crackles as the two exchange verbal blows. Dariy mutters something low to Aleksey in Russian, the sneer on his face making my hands itch to throw a punch.
Anatoly finally raises a hand, silencing his men. “Enough. This isn’t about dredging up the past. It’s about ensuring we don’t destroy everything in the future.”
Rory’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Agreed. But make no mistake here, Anatoly. We’re negotiating on equal terms. You don’t get to dictate.”
The two leaders lock eyes, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Anatoly leans back, his tone measured. “Then let’s negotiate.”
Anatoly’s fingers drum against the table, his expression calm but calculating. “We’ll start with the territory west of the river,” he says, his tone casual, as if he’s asking for a cup of coffee. “And the docks. Full control of operations there. You step back entirely.”
Rory’s laugh is cold, devoid of humor. “You must think we’re idiots. The docks are ours, have been for years. You’ve got no claim.”
“Perhaps,” Anatoly replies, his voice silky-smooth, “but it’s a vital point of entry. Surely, you can see how sharing might benefit both our sides.”
“We both know that’s not what you’re asking,” I interject, my voice low but firm. “You don’t want to share. You want to take over.”
Anatoly’s smile tightens. “I’d suggest you consider the bigger picture. A little concession now prevents a much larger problem later.”
“Is that a threat?” Rory leans forward, his hands clasped on the table.
Anatoly mirrors the movement, the smile slipping from his face. “It’s a fact. You can’t keep your grip on everything forever. Better to yield strategically than to lose it all in a war you can’t win.”
Rory sits back, unfazed. “You’re underestimating us, Anatoly. That’s your first mistake.”
Across the table, Dariy Volkov smirks, his arms crossed. “Your stubbornness is impressive. But impractical.”
“And your arrogance is predictable,” Lucky snaps from his position near the door. “What makes you think we’d ever give you control of the docks? Or anything else, for that matter?”
“The docks are non-negotiable,” I say firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re not giving you control of one of our biggest resources.”
Anatoly sighs, leaning back as if weary of the conversation. “Then let’s talk about the businesses. We’ll take full control of the imports. You can keep the fronts. Seems fair, doesn’t it?”
“Fair?” Rory repeats, his voice sharp. “Fair would be you staying out of our affairs altogether.”
Tension ripples through the room, both sides bristling as the weight of the standoff presses down on everyone. Aleksey shifts in place, his cold gaze locked on me, while Anatoly’s daughterwatches Liam with what looks like amusement—or maybe something more calculated.
“We’re not conceding anything,” Rory states, his voice steely. “If you want to avoid a war, Anatoly, you’ll rethink your demands.”
Anatoly tilts his head, studying Rory like a chess piece he’s trying to read. “Then perhaps we’ve reached an impasse.”
“Perhaps we have,” Rory replies, his tone unyielding.
For a moment, the room is silent, the air thick with the unspoken promise of conflict.
Anatoly leans back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across our side. His calm is maddening, deliberate. “You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that. But stubbornness doesn’t win wars. Strategy does.”
Rory’s lips press into a thin line. “And handing over our assets isn’t a strategy. It’s suicide.”
“You speak of strategy,” I bite out, my voice taut with anger, “but all you’re doing is trying to strong-arm us into submission. That’s not strategy. That’s desperation, my friend.”
Aleksey’s lip curls, his cold gray eyes narrowing. “You think this is desperation? You haven’t seen desperation yet, Kellan. Keep testing us, and you will.”
Lucky shifts near the door, his hand resting on the back of a chair as if restraining himself. “Big words from someone who couldn’t even take a little nightclub without starting a blood feud.”
