Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
DANIIL
“Emilio wants to use our shipping routes to start moving his product.”
My head whips up from my phone as I absorb Andrei’s words. It’s just Andrei, Yulian, Leo, and me in the cigar lounge we keep private for our own purposes. Mainly drinking, gambling, and talking shit.
Swiping my vodka off the bar, I shoot it down like vodka is meant to be consumed. Ice-cold and in one gulp. Whisky is for savoring, not vodka. Andrei is tracking me closely, reading my reaction to his announcement. I clear my throat and slam the shot glass down on the bar. “It’s too risky.”
Only our most-trusted associates have access to our shipping lines, which span throughout the globe. We’ve stayed out of street sales—and all the headaches and pressure that comes with it—by getting into the lucrative business of smuggling and transportation.
Unnerving silence falls as Andrei takes a cigar out of his pocket and cuts the tip off, lighting the Cohiba with slow, sure movements.
I knew this day was coming, that the Zegas would want to exploit our connection, but I’d hoped for more time to figure out Jorge’s endgame.
It’s clear he’s out for revenge, but what his version of revenge entails, I don’t know, and I’m not willing to sit around and find out.
“Why?” Andrei’s voice is smooth as silk, but lurking beneath, a hardened pakhan is out for blood. “Everything has gone smoothly at the casino with the Zegas has it not?”
My jaw ticks in annoyance, dread pressing down on my shoulders.
I’m not ready to share with Andrei everything that has happened with Jorge, partly because he warned me to play nice, but also because I can’t sound the alarm until there’s something to report.
And right now, I have nothing solid to go on.
Just a bad feeling in the pit of my gut.
“It’s barely been a month. Cleaning their money on our turf is one thing, allowing them to use our ships to move their product gives them power over us.
Are we ready for them to know exactly what ships we own, the ports we have deals with, the right hands to grease along the way? It’s fucking reckless.”
My brother’s eyes narrow as he releases a ring of smoke into the air. “Why is that?”
I sit up straighter, unease pressing down on my chest. “They’re not my family, and I don’t trust them yet. One wrong move, and we’ll have the DEA all over us.”
Yulian’s chuckle is low. “If we waited for you to trust the Zegas, we’d be shit out of luck. Unless we have a problem you’re not telling us about.”
A pulse flickers in my jaw. “You saw the shit he pulled at my wedding.”
“You mean daring to talk to Bianca?” Andrei takes a slow sip of his drink, unimpressed with my reasoning. “All I saw was how you overreacted … especially for a wife you claimed not to want.”
“When did I fucking say that?” I growl, even though I know it’s the truth. But fuck him for throwing it back in my face. Because my life would be a hell of a lot easier if I felt nothing for the chestnut-haired beauty with the crazy-ass dog running around my penthouse.
But that’s the problem. I feel everything for her. It’s like she put a spell on me and I’m helpless to resist. I’m Daniil Kozlov, and I’m an addict.
Leo’s eyes meet mine over Andrei’s head, and he gives me a subtle shake of his head.
“Drop it,” he’s telling me, “we’ll deal with this in our own way.
” My younger brother and I have always had an understanding that not all our business must concern the whole brotherhood.
Some things are better left to be dealt with by our own hand.
I can’t help but get in one more jab. “If I recall correctly, we walked into a derelict warehouse without backup or arms when Georgia was abducted based on nothing but blind trust. Call this a hunch, too.”
Andrei’s eyes soften at the corners, no doubt remembering how Leo and I were willing to do anything necessary to get Georgia back.
“We have an opportunity here,” he presses.
“The feds have the US-Mexico border on lockdown these days, it gives the Zegas an advantage. They’re producing more powder than ever in Colombia since they don’t have to share as much of the market with the Mexicans.
We have a fleet of empty container ships circling the coast of Urabá, ready to be loaded.
” He drags a knuckle over his jaw, his gaze sharp despite a night of vodka shots.
“And you’re telling me we shouldn’t move forward because you don’t like your in-laws?
” A sour laugh peels from his lips as he stubs out his cigar.
I bristle, feeling the weight of everyone’s stare on my skin. “I’m asking you to trust me on this, brat.”
Andrei’s chair pushes back with a loud squeal. “I need proof that we have an actual problem with the Zegas. Bring me something solid or put whatever personal shit you have aside so we can make some goddamn money.”
Yulian is the next one out of his seat. “If you need me, bratan, you know where to find me,” he says in parting, following Andrei out, which leaves Leo and me alone.
My younger brother smirks at the closed door, slumping in his chair. “Well played,” he says, loosening his tie, and throwing it on the seat beside him.
“What kind of proof does he expect? This is bullshit.” I huff out a dark laugh and lean back in my chair, fishing my phone from my pocket.
Three swipes on my screen, and I’m looking down at a live feed of my wife asleep in my bedroom in Brooklyn.
I’ve lost the fight with myself to keep Bianca at arm’s length.
We’ve settled into a new routine these past couple of weeks where she takes Eris to dog obedience school during the day—a hard-won negotiation on my part and still a work in progress—and during the afternoon lull at the casino, I go back to the penthouse to spend time with her.
It’s new to me. The need to be near her. To touch her skin, to talk.
The one hard limit I have—she can’t come to the casino with me. Because if Jorge or any other enemy wanted to make a move, the casino would be an obvious place to hit.
“Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my brother?”
My head whips up at the sound of Leo’s voice in my ear. He’s watching me watch Bianca on the camera feed, amusement coloring his smile.
“Shut up.” I swipe to turn off my phone and drop it on the table in front of me. “You don’t understand what it’s like because no one wants your ugly ass.”
“If you say so.” Leo smirks at me.
I can’t sit any longer. Fire ants burn under my skin as I pace the carpeted floor of the lounge. If Jorge was only after me, I’d say bring it on, but my pound of flesh won’t be enough.
“We have to provoke him,” I say, an idea taking shape in my mind. “Give him a reason to come at us properly, none of this pissing-in-his-Cheerios shit to get a response. He wants to fight it out, let’s do it.”
Leo tilts his head, a cocktail toothpick between his lips. “Sounds like a bad fucking idea.” He launches the toothpick across the room. “I’m in. Have anything specific in mind?”
Smiling at my brother’s absolute fucking recklessness, and mine too, I pour two shots for each of us. “Yeah, I have something in mind. Drink up, and I’ll share all the dirty details.”