Page 102 of My Mafia Queen

“There’s no need for sarcasm.”

“The same woman was with you the other night when you finished Ivanov.”

“You didn’t know that when you requested the meeting with me,” I retort. “It hadn’t even happened at that point. So let’s go back to why you wanted me here in the first place.”

He pushes to his feet rather forcefully and slides a hand into his pocket, a muscle throbbing in his jaw.

The distance between us is erased in a second.

“Listen to me, son,” he says, stopping a few inches away from me. “You’re getting in more trouble than you need to be in with this woman. So I need to know who she is and what measures you are taking to avoid another disaster. You know what happens to the people who lock themselves in the rooms they have no business being in. Or the ones who find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. What Boris had asked of you was what anyone in his place would’ve asked of you. You’ve put your honor on the line and risked a lot for this woman. I don’t care who she is. People lost their lives for less than that. You know I can’t spare your life if the people above me want your head. Andyou’re telling meyou’ve negotiated with the Russian and bought that woman from him for two million dollars?”

“I’m not telling you that. He had told you that. Or his boss. Or his proxies. But that’s not what it was.”

“Wasn’t it? You gave him the money.”

“It’s not about the fucking money. It’s about him setting me up. The woman has nothing to do with that.”

“Where is she?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where is she tonight?”

“She’s in Las Vegas. She lives with me.”

“You said she was working for you.”

“She is working for me. I took her in to show Boris I was serious about keeping an eye on her.”

“And are you?” he tosses at me, his voice dripping with irony. “You killed Boris’ boss because of her. How many times have I told you we needed the Russians?”

“We don’t need the Russians.”

Surprise floods his eyes.

I make a dismissive gesture.

“We’ve discussed this…” I say, annoyed. “You know it’s not working. What you want to do is not working. It doesn’t matter whether we avoid a war or not. We’re paying a price either way.”

“You don’t know what the price would be if we engaged them.”

I slowly shake my head.

“I don’t understand this,” I murmur. “When did you get so disconnected from what’s really going on in the streets? Do you think they are peaceful? There are many ways to wage a war.”

Irritated, he flicks his hand up and goes back to the coffee table, where he picks up his drink.

“You know nothing,” he says before taking a sip.

“I think I do,” I argue. “And you know why? Because while we’re here trying to preserve peace, they’re working hard to unravel our empire. Even us having this conversation now is the result of their shenanigans. You have no idea how many scumbags like Boris and his boss attempt to destroy my business every day. The woman has been a pretext.”

“She shouldn’t be a pretext,” he says, whipping his eyes to me. “She should’ve been gone by now, and we wouldn’t have had this conversation.”

His words hit me like a sledgehammer.

“You make no sense.”

“I don’t?”

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