Chapter 39
39
DANTE
T he Russians were late.
Which wasn’t surprising. They liked to make an entrance. Liked to remind you that they didn’t dance to anyone else’s rhythm—not even mine. But I didn’t mind. Let them be late. Let them think they had the upper hand. I’d already won the game before they walked through the door.
The meeting was held in one of the neutral estates on the outskirts of the city. A place with no blood on the walls—yet. The kind of place where men in suits smiled over crystal glasses while planning how to slit each other’s throats.
I stood at the head of the table, black suit pressed and perfect, tie knotted tight, watch ticking steadily on my wrist. The room was cold, the windows wide and bare, the long mahogany table polished to a mirror shine. My brother was already seated—Rafe to my right, arms crossed, jaw tight. Luca was late, as usual, but that was his charm.
A door opened at the far end of the hall.
And the Russians arrived.
Aleksander Romanov entered first, flanked by two men I didn’t recognize and one I did—Nikolai. The younger brother. The reasonable one. The one who’d made the mistake of letting his older brother use my wife as a bargaining chip.
Aleksander wore a navy suit and a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked like a man who’d never been told no. And he didn’t like that I was the first to do it.
“Conti,” he said, voice smooth, accent sharp. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”
I gave him a cold smile. “I don’t change my mind. I change the terms.”
He chuckled and took a seat across from me. Nikolai sat beside him, his expression unreadable. The others remained standing, silent shadows.
“Let’s get to it,” Aleksander said, leaning back in his chair. “You owe us twenty million.”
“And you owe me a wife,” I replied, voice calm.
He raised a brow. “She’s alive, isn’t she?”
“For now.”
Nikolai flinched, just slightly.
I leaned forward, folding my hands on the table. “You want money. I want peace. But money’s temporary. Peace—that’s a legacy.”
Aleksander’s smile faded. “What are you proposing?”
“A marriage,” I said simply. “Your son. My sister.”
The room stilled.
Even Rafe turned to look at me.
Aleksander blinked. “You have a sister?”
“She’s been at school,” I said. “A private academy. Safe. Hidden. She’s young, but she’s smart. Educated. Raised with the right values.”
“You mean she knows how to keep her mouth shut,” Aleksander said dryly.
I smiled. “That too.”
He leaned back, considering. “And what do we get in return?”
“A seat on the board,” I said. “The academy. My wife’s seat.”
Rafe stiffened beside me, but I didn’t look at him.
Aleksander’s eyes narrowed. “A school board seat? That’s your offer?”
“It’s not just a school,” I said. “It’s a fortress. A breeding ground for the next generation. Access means power. Influence. Control over who’s protected—and who’s not.”
He didn’t respond.
I leaned back in my chair. “You don’t need money. You need security. You need a foothold in the next generation. A marriage alliance gives you that. A seat on the board gives you more.”
“And what guarantees do we have?” he asked. “How do we know you’ll follow through? That you won’t back out when your sister comes of age?”
I looked around the table, then back at him.
“It’s time for my brother to take a wife,” I said.
Rafe choked on his drink.
“Excuse me?” he said.
I didn’t look at him. “A double alliance. My sister to your son. My brother to your niece.”
Aleksander raised a brow. “You’re offering two marriages?”
“No,” Rafe said. “He’s not.”
I finally turned to him. “You are.”
“I already have two brothers,” Rafe muttered. “Isn’t that enough?”
Aleksander laughed.
Nikolai didn’t.
I shrugged. “Hmm. Well, that won’t do. So I guess you’ll just have to trust us.”
Aleksander studied me for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
It wasn’t a friendly smile.
But it was a yes.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll draft the terms. But if you back out?—”
“I won’t,” I said. “And if you touch my wife again, I’ll kill you.”
Aleksander leaned back in his chair, the smirk curling at his lips like he was enjoying a private joke. “You’re a clever man, Conti. But I wonder—do you ever ask your wife before you trade away her power?”
My jaw ticked.
He was trying to get a rise out of me. Trying to prove he still had teeth after I’d backed him into a corner.
I didn’t bite.
I turned to Nikolai instead. “Do you agree to the terms?”
Nikolai shrugged, casual. “Sure. Why not?” He didn’t even look at his brother. “It’s not like I’m the one in charge.”
He reached out to shake Aleksander’s hand.
It took me less than a second.
I pulled my gun from my jacket and fired.
One shot.
Clean.
Aleksander’s head snapped back, a spray of blood arcing across the table. His body slumped in the chair, lifeless, eyes still open in shock.
The room erupted.
Chairs scraped back. Shouts in Russian. Guns drawn. Chaos.
Rafe stood, calm and composed, already pulling his piece.
Nikolai didn’t flinch.
He just ran a hand down his face, smearing blood across his cheek, and sighed like I’d just ruined his evening.
“Bozhe moy,” he muttered. “You couldn’t have just walked away and saved us all the headache?”
I holstered my gun, slow and deliberate. “He thought he could get away with touching my wife.”
Nikolai’s jaw clenched.
I stepped closer, voice low. “When you finally manage to marry Valentina, you’ll understand.”
He sneered, muttering something sharp in Russian under his breath. Then he turned to his men, who were still shouting and pointing guns like they didn’t know what to do without orders.
“Zatknites’,” he snapped. “Put down your weapons.”
They obeyed.
Of course they did.
Nikolai looked back at me, his expression unreadable. “Get him a drink,” he said to one of his men. “And clean up this mess.”
I adjusted my jacket, brushing a fleck of blood from my sleeve. “You’re forgetting something.”
He raised a brow.
“My wife.”
He stared at me for a beat.
Then he turned to his guards and said in Russian, “Let the girl go.”
I didn’t thank him.
I just turned and walked out, already dialing the number that would bring Emilia home.
Because this wasn’t about peace.
It was about war.
And now?
Now it was personal.