Page 80 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

“There’s going to be a lot of press. You told me to spread the scoop to every reporter in a ten-mile radius, and I’ve done just that.”

“Good. The more cameras the better.”

“Still, for someone so unpracticed before such attention—”

“Her nervousness will be authentic, endearing. She will seem like a real flesh-and-blood woman, not some trophy wife. That is a good thing.”

Ludmil inclines his head, unconvinced.

“You know how I operate,” I tell him. “In facts. Not in anxious possibilities.”

“You’re right. Only, if we had more time …”

“To what? Stage a small series of commercials or press ops so Joy has time to get used to being in front of the camera? We don’t have time for that and you know it. Every additional day we spend grooming her, we lose on gathering momentum for this election. Richard Walsh is wasting no such time, I can assure you. Rudy has let me in on that much.”

Ludmil’s gaze has grown amused. I follow it to see the gray ball of fur at my feet. Who knows how long Chowder has been here?

“At least you two have been getting along well,” he says neutrally.

Referring to Joy and I, naturally. He probably suspects more, but knows better than to ask.

“Yes,” is all I tell him. “All will go according to plan.”

While what has been happening with Joy—the incidents, specifically—is not in any way part of the plan, no good will be done by mentioning it, or even devoting any more thought or concern than I have already.

“Tell me about the Skull Kings,” I say. “Still good news?”

Ludmil’s bulging eyes relax at this return to more familiar territory. “Very good,” he says, taking out a large city map and opening it onto the table as he points with his finger. “As you can see, the skulls indicate where the Skull Kings have hit, while the Bs indicate where the Vaknin Bratva has hit back. The Morozov and Dubrovsky Bratvas have both supplied additional troops as well. The Bratva Syndicate remains strong.”

“And last night?” I continue.

“It’s as good as we hoped for. That old Chrysler factory was one of the ones the Skull Kings had converted into a munitions warehouse. When we hit it, Father Bones was one of the casualties.”

I chuckle. “What a shame. What will the scum do without their father?”

“Fester a little less, I guess.” Ludmil’s upper lip is curled with distaste.

I don’t blame him. Father Bones was the shit of the shit. He was so named because of his tendency to recruit young homeless kids from the streets, then get them to do the most dangerous and worst of jobs. He was as cowardly as he was cruel. The world is better off without him.

“Excellent.” I don’t say it, but I don’t need to. Our patience and strategy is paying off. As Sun Tzu would say:Opportunities multiply as they are seized.Yes, little by little, the war is turning in our favor.

“There is one more thing,” Ludmil says, lips pursed.

I frown. Admittedly, it is my second-in-command’s job to worry for me. But sometimes, I think he does it too well.

“About the new Skull King leader …” he begins.

“Which we have no evidence of, other than the word of some dead rat.”

“Not solid evidence, no,” Ludmil agrees. “But you have to admit, their strategy has radically changed. They have become far more aggressive in the past few months.”

“No one else we’ve interrogated since we got that intel from the rat has divulged anything else about a new leader.”

“That may not mean anything. You know how those biker bastards are.”

That, I do. All too well. Fanatical. Loyal to the point of suicidal. Their signature move lately, when losing, has been to pour kerosene mixed with acid on themselves, then drop a match on it. Boom—acid spreads, they die, but what is death when you will be a king forever?

Normally, fostering that kind of crazed devotion would be something I’d admire, but not now that I’ve seen the cost. Time and again, the Skull Kings have had insane tyrants for leaders who push too far, too fast, who have no tact. Not real commanders, only puppets. It makes them limited and weak—a weakness that my Bratva is only too happy to exploit.

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