Chapter 13
ROMAN
“Roman. Beautiful home.”
Garin had strolled into my house like he owned it.
I close the office doors behind him with a decisive thud. For a moment, all I can hear is the faint hum of the security system adjusting to his presence. Right now, he’s undergoing a full body scan that’s checking his heart rate and whether or not he’s armed.
All quiet. He’s not armed. Smart man.
I’m pissed off. I don’t like him in my home. I don’t like him near my son. He’s here uninvited. That alone tells me all I need to know.
This is a power play.
He’s dressed per usual, in a sleek, expensive suit that leaves no question about his financial status. His overcoat is draped over one arm, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“When you walk into my home without notice, the least you could do is show a little respect.”
An expression of confusion crosses his features. “Respect? Roman, respect should be implied.”
I’m not interested in arguing with him. He’s here to prove a point, but trying to pull that out in the open would be an exercise in futility.
“Then state your intentions. I doubt you’re here to admire the décor.”
Nikolai leans against one of the chairs across from my desk. “I merely dropped by to wish you luck with your upcoming IPO. It’s a monumental step. And one not many Bratva men like us would be able to take.”
The IPO. He wasn’t supposed to know about that yet.
I snort. “You’re not here to admire anything, Garin. You and I both know that.”
His eyes drift over to the window, hands clasped behind his back. He’s relaxed. Too relaxed. That’s how he operates. He always likes to appear calmer than everyone around him, as if the world runs on his time and everything is simply destined to work out to his advantage.
“You’ve changed the place. Feels warmer. Lived in. Even a little domestic. Like you’ve got a woman’s touch here now. That must be good for the boy.”
My blood heats. “Leave my family out of your mouth.”
He turns, giving me a mock-innocent expression. “Family? I thought she was just the nanny.”
He says it like it’s matter of fact, but there’s a probing curiosity beneath it. He wants to know who she is, if she means something to me.
“She’s not your concern.”
His smile widens just enough to show that despite my succinct answer, he knows he’s struck a nerve. “But Roman, everything related to you is my concern. After all, you’re my biggest competition here in our fair city. Friendly competition, but competition all the same.”
“Nothing about my family affects you. And if you mention my son again, I’ll see to it you leave this house in pieces.”
His grin becomes sinister. I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. He got under my skin, just like he wanted.
“There’s that famous Barinov rage, the one you try so hard to keep tamped down these days. Glad to know it’s still there.” He chuckles. “I remember those bloody days when your rage wasn’t so carefully hidden.”
I place my palms on the smooth, cool surface of my desk and lean against it. “Say what you came to say and leave.”
“Very well. We’re both busy men.” He clears his throat. “I’ve heard whispers, my friend. About you going legitimate. At first, I couldn’t believe it. Roman Barinov, the man who once killed another man with his bare hands going legitimate? Not a chance.”
I say nothing, letting him continue. He walks toward one of my shelves as he speaks, running his finger along the row of book spines.
“But the more I poked around, the more chatty bankers I spoke with, the more I realized it’s for real. You are trying to turn your Bratva into something legitimate.” He says the word like it’s cursed.
“And what about it?”
He smiles. “It’s quite an undertaking, turning Barinov Holdings into something public and above board. Not to mention a long process to iron out all of the legal issues. Such things take time.
“And such a delicate process, too. Anything could interrupt it, exposing the less than legal operations at the heart. Any whiff of scandal, any wrong doing, could attract the attention of the police. Or even worse, the Feds. And that would be very, very bad.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting that you’re going to interfere with the process, Nikolai.”
He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, placing his fingertips on his chest. “Me? No. Perish the thought.”
“Good. Because the banks are backing me fully. My legal team has ensured that everything is proceeding above board. And there are investors eager to put their money in my operation. You and the rest of the Garin Bratva can have whatever illegal scraps I leave behind.”
“Indeed, indeed.” He steps over to a small globe on one of my shelves and gives it a little spin. “I suppose we’re going to find out what sort of edifice one must build on top of the skeletons of his past to truly make them go away. Maybe nothing is big and grand enough.”
My pulse beats, deep and slow.
“And I wanted to warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“Yes, warn you. We’re not the only operations in this town, Roman.
Many in our world like things to run just as they are—no shake-ups, no surprises.
There might be men scheming to maintain the status quo.
And the same goes for this new world you’re so eager to rush into.
Competition awaits. And if they were to find concrete evidence of those you buried on your rise to the top… ”
He leaves his words and their implication hanging in the air.
“Brave man, attempting to leave a world so few do. But think about the possibilities; I’m sure you have. A clean inheritance for your boy. A new legacy. A future for him that ensures both his fortune and his extrication from this world. Elena would’ve been proud.”
A cold, vicious part of me rears up at the mention of my late wife. My fingers curl into fists so tight my knuckles crack. “Do not speak her name.”
He holds up a hand. “Forgive me. Sensitive topic.”
He’s goddamn right it’s sensitive. Especially since I’m almost certain he was the one who ordered the hit. But even after all this time, I still haven’t been able to find any proof. Until then, I can’t make a move.
“A little word of caution,” he says. “Don’t walk blithely into these grand plans. And remember the old expression.” He speaks in Russian then repeats it in English. “‘If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.’”
“If you’re trying to sabotage me—”
He smiles. “If I were sabotaging you, Roman, you wouldn’t need to ask.”
I open my mouth to speak, to tell him to leave.
Before I can get out a single word, the office doors open and Andrei enters.
He doesn’t apologize for barging in. He doesn’t need to.
He’s the one man who can stroll into my office without warning.
Because if he does, there’s a damn good reason for it.
Andrei’s eyes flick from me to Garin then back. No doubt he’s clocked the situation.
“You have another visitor,” he says. “A Mr. Blair.”
Shit. Blair’s one of the senior bankers managing the IPO.
“Ah,” I say. “That can’t wait.”
“No,” Andrei says flatly. “It cannot.”
Garin chuckles. “Well, I see you have important matters to attend to.”
“I do. It’s time for you to leave, Nikolai.”
“Always a pleasure, Roman.” He walks toward the door then pauses, his hand resting on the frame. “The new nanny,” he says casually. “She’s pretty. Your boy seems to like her.”
I say nothing, not willing to take the bait. He taps the frame, then leaves. The instant he steps out and the door shuts behind him, my control fractures.
“I’m going to kill that fucker one of these days.”
Andrei steps closer, jaw tight. “He should not have come. This was a simple provocation. A test.”
“He will not do it again.”
Andrei leans against one of the nearby bookshelves. “We could make it look like—”
“An accident.” God, it’s tempting. One “accident,” and one of the largest thorns in my side could be immediately removed.
“No,” I say. “We move forward with the IPO. One more month. Then we can leave Garin and the rest of this world behind. We don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Understood. But should you change your mind…” He heads toward the door. “Shall I call in Blair?”
I run my hand through my hair, letting the last pulses of anger from Garin’s visit work through me.
A moment ago, I’d felt murderous. Now, I must be the perfect businessman.
Two worlds I have to navigate perfectly, at all times.
But not for much longer. It is a responsibility that Sasha will never bear.
“Send him in.”
Andrei exits. Moments later, Thomas Blair enters, tight and pale around the mouth. Not a good sign. He carries a folder like it’s a bomb.
Thomas Blair is not a man who startles easily. In his mid-fifties, he’s dressed in an immaculate suit, silver hair trimmed with surgical precision. Normally, he possesses the quiet authority of someone who’s steered half the major IPOs in Chicago, radiating a steady, unshakable confidence.
But today, he looks rattled.
“Roman,” he says with a stiff nod. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
I gesture for him to sit.
He clears his throat. “I’ll get straight to the point, as I’m sure you prefer. The bank’s compliance division flagged some articles.”
“What articles?”
“Drafts,” he says. “Leaked to a Tribune journalist from two different sources. Neither have been published yet, and it’s not entirely certain they will be.
Both suggest lingering ties between your organization and,” he glances at Andrei, hesitating for a moment, “violence. Organized Crime. All the way down your family line. There are also whispers of a whistle blower.”
I take a moment to process the information. Then I grit my teeth, working through the anger. “You know the nature of my operations. You also know I’m moving away from that.”
He nods. “I do. And that’s one of the reasons I’m eager to work with you on this offering.
We’ll get you out of your less legitimate operations, make everything nice and above board.
Profitable and useful to the economy. You make money, your company makes money, and Chicago becomes just a little bit safer. ”
“And you’ll profit a bit too,” Andrei says with a wry tone.
“Well, naturally,” Blair replies. “I’m not a humanitarian. All the same, there are quite a few reasons I’d like to see this IPO get off the ground, my compensation being one of them.”
“Someone’s trying to put a stop to it,” I say. “In a backhanded manner.”
“It would seem that way. But all of the information is unverified.”
“That’s good,” Andrei says. “The Tribune isn’t a gossip rag.”
Blair nods. “Correct. All the same, rumors of this nature could be enough to destabilize confidence. The valuation could drop. Or the IPO could be delayed. Or worse.”
I close my eyes. Less than a month. That’s all the time I have to scrub every trace of blood and violence from the financials, finalize the transition, and present a clean operation to the public markets.
If the IPO fails, I can’t go legitimate, and Sasha inherits a world I never wanted him to be a part of. A world that could very well swallow him whole.
“Who is the source?” I ask.
“We don’t know yet,” Blair admits.
“Find out. Put your people on it.”
“We’re trying,” Blair says. “But journalists protect their sources.”
I give the matter a moment of thought. “Whoever’s leaking information is either using someone in my organization.”
“Could be our just-departed guest,” Andrei suggests, nodding toward the door. “He could get access to incriminating information, were he so inclined.”
Blair clears his throat. “Either way, whatever’s here as of right now isn’t enough to tank the deal. We’ll continue moving forward. But Roman, anything more volatile, even a misunderstanding, could stall everything. And once matters like this are stalled…” He doesn’t need to finish.
“Understood.”
He stands. “We’re still committed, Roman. There’s lots of money to be made. Many eager investors ready to get in on the ground floor. There’s no ceiling to where you could take Barinov Holdings. But getting this thing off the ground is a delicate act. We need stability. No surprises.”
No surprises. A luxury in my world.
“Thank you for your time, Thomas,” I say, signaling the end of the meeting.
“Of course. I’ll keep you posted on any developments.”
With that, he leaves, more questions floating in my mind than answers.