Chapter 13
Laszlo
My body is still vibrating from that orgasm. It’s been a long time since a woman made me burst my balls in such a short space of time, with her hand over my clothes. I think I was a teenager at the time, feeling up Cindy Mattison behind the bike sheds.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I head downstairs, not ready to face Galina’s father after what we just did.
But that’s the job.
I stride into my office without a care in the world and move around my desk as Viktor watches me, standing, not sitting, near the plush leather chairs. “Laszlo.”
“Viktor,” I say, holding out my hand over the desk. He takes it with a firm handshake. “What brings you by?”
He lowers his hand to a folder on my desk and slowly slides it across the mahogany. “The paperwork is finalised. Zolotoy Rezerv is now yours.”
I nod once and sit down, gesturing for Viktor to do the same. He sits, casually leaning back as I pick up the folder. I scan it, it all seems in order. Closing it, I give him a curious stare. “Can I ask why you are giving away your biggest asset?”
“No.” He smiles.
I’m not so easily put off. “There are families, Bratva and not, who would pay millions for this, if not billions of pounds. Yet you transfer it to your daughter–I’m guessing with a secret Power of Attorney–and then hand it off as part of her dowry for access to a corridor deep in Voronov territory. Forgive me if I find that suspicious.”
Viktor’s smile doesn’t change. “You should.”
I sit back in my chair and hold his gaze. “That isn’t reassuring.”
“It isn’t meant to be.” He folds one leg over the other with irritating calm.
“What is coming through that corridor, Viktor?”
“Your pay grade isn’t high enough. But while we are on the subject, I need access, with no other shipments coming through, in thirteen days.”
“Thirteen days,” I say with a slow smile. “The day of the wedding, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.”
I shake my head, impressed, even though I’m pissed off. “I need a yes or a no if you want the corridor cleared.”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“I’m going to ask you again. What is coming through?”
“And I’m going to keep giving you the same answer: none of your business. But I admire your persistence.”
“That persistence will keep your daughter safe.”
Shots fucking fired.
His eyes narrow, and the temperature seems to drop a fraction.
I don’t blink.
Neither does he.
“Was that a threat?” he asks softly.
“No.” I rest my forearms on the desk and lace my fingers together, keeping my voice even.
“That was clarity. You’re asking me to clear a route through Voronov ground for something important enough that you’re willing to hand over a fucking gold mine to make it happen.
You don’t get to ask for that and then expect me not to take an interest in the safety implications. For my family. For your daughter.”
He studies me for a long moment. “You care about her safety awfully quickly.”
“I care about liabilities. And she’s under my roof now.”
His mouth curves, but his eyes stay cold. “Is that what she is to you?”
I think about her hand on my cock upstairs. Her mouth opening under mine. The way she looked at me when she asked where she stands.
“No,” I say. “But that answer is private.”
Something shifts in his expression. Not approval. Not exactly. Recognition, maybe. Of a line being drawn.
He taps one finger against the arm of the chair. “The corridor needs to be empty thirteen days from now. That’s all you need to know. There are no safety concerns.”
“Be that on your head,” I reply, sitting back.
He purses his lips. “You think you know the true value of the club, Laszlo, but you have no idea. No one does. I’m going to fill you in on a little story.
When my father gained ownership of that club two decades ago, he discovered something that took the smuggling business in and out of the centre of London to a whole other level. There is a tunnel network underground—”
“I know.”
He shakes his head. “You know what people have surmised. Rumours. There is an entire network of tunnels with access under the club that stretches for miles beyond the city. You can bring in or get rid of anything you want—women, drugs, arms—and the Met have absolutely no idea.”
“Not even a small clue?” I ask dryly.
“Do you think it would still exist if they did?”
Good point.
“So you’re saying I now own a hub of underground tunnels with access that no one knows about?”
“Except me, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But, yes. That is what I’m saying. One of them goes right under Coutts…” He lets that hang there, and my heart thumps.
I sit back and let out a slow, dark laugh. “You smug cunt. That was you.”
“My dad, but I was there.”
“Fuck me. Okay, I’m impressed.”
He smiles.
“But now I’m even more suspicious about what is coming down that corridor.”
“And you will remain clueless, just like the Met. How is Galina?”
The change of subject means the very end of this discussion. “She is settling in.”
“She bites.”
“I noticed.”
“Hurt her, and I will kill you. Slowly.”
“I have no doubt, but you don’t have to worry about getting my blood on your hands. I won’t hurt her.”
“That doesn’t mean just physically. If she calls me up crying because you pissed her off, you are a dead man.”
I take that threat very seriously. “I guess your daughter is about to be the happiest woman alive then.”
“Good answer.” He stands up. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
I stand too. “I hope it was worth it.”
“It will be.”
I nod, and he takes his leave with Leonid showing him out. Waiting until the front door closes, I leave my office and pause when I see my men assembled at the foot of the stairs.
“What the fuck is this?” I snap.
“Madam has an announcement,” Leonid says in that quiet way that makes it seem like this is a natural occurrence.
“Oh, does she?” I mutter and look up the stairs to see her descend gracefully, dressed in a black pantsuit and white silk blouse, heels sky high, hair and make-up in place.
I cross my arms and wait for whatever she is about to say.
“Gentlemen,” she says when she reaches the third-to-last step, keeping a height advantage.
“I would like to apologise for earlier. I can assure you it was my mistake not informing you that a package was due to arrive, and I won’t make it again.
I hope you can accept my apology, and I am really sorry for all the inconvenience caused. ”
Silence.
I blink, surprised by her taking ownership.
My men look at one another like they’ve just been handed a grenade and told to politely decline it.
Petyr, his arm strapped across his chest, clears his throat first. “No inconvenience, madam.”
The others murmur their agreement a second later, all of them far too wary to do anything else.
Galina inclines her head, calm and elegant, and so fucking composed that it does something ugly to my insides.
She didn’t need to do this. Most women in her position wouldn’t.
Most wouldn’t even notice the effect of a scene like that on the men around them.
But she did. She clocked it, took responsibility, and came down here looking like a queen addressing her soldiers.
It’s not softness. Not breeding. Steel. The kind that didn’t need volume to cut.
Baron hadn’t handed me a burden. He’d handed me a wife who could stand in a room full of armed men and make herself understood.
“That’s settled, then,” I say. “Fuck off back to your posts.”
Every man in the hall visibly relaxes and moves out as if their arses were on fire.
Leonid, traitorous bastard that he is, looks faintly pleased.
“Leonid,” she says, “Might I have a word?”
He blinks and glances at me. I shrug, and he looks back at her with a stiff nod.
“I’ll be in my office,” I murmur as she cuts her gaze to me sharply enough that I know when to fuck off and not argue about it. Whatever it is, I’m sure he will inform me if it’s anything dangerous or would put her, my men, or me in jeopardy.
I sit back down and pick up the folder Viktor left to go over it with a fine-toothed comb. He has handed the Voronov’s a powerful asset, but I still can’t help feeling suspicious about the entire thing.
Several pages in, I look up as Leonid enters with a small cardboard box. I raise my eyebrow at it as he places it on the desk. “What’s that?”
“A package for Miss Rusanova.”
“Is that what she wanted to speak to you about?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
He pushes the box further up the desk. “Perhaps you would like to take it up to her.”
It’s not a question.
I frown and open the already unsealed and checked box. “Birth control,” I state. “Why Leonid. Are you embarrassed?”
He makes a noise that sounds strangled and pious, which, after witnessing me coming in my pants with Galina’s hand on me earlier, isn’t really a shock.
I chuckle and let him off the hook. “I’ll take it up.”
He nods quickly and backs out, a look of relief on his face.
I sit back and pluck the packets of pills out of the box, staring at them and feeling several emotions coursing through me.
I flick them back into the box and stand, scooping it up and heading towards the stairs to find Galina and have a discussion that neither of us is ready for, but when did that ever stop me?