Chapter 33
Although I’ve been dreading this meeting all week, and under normal circumstances I would have enjoyed staying to put Thatcher through his paces…I can’t say I’m not a tad relieved.
Too many emotions have been swirling in my mind lately. Unwelcome, nasty things that won’t do anyone any good. Hopefully, today’s trade negotiation can recenter my focus on what matters: shoring up my hold on this Bratva once and for all.
Almost all the pieces are in place, and Misha’s going to deserve a yearlong vacation for all the behind-the-scenes shit he’s been handling for me. Not that he would ever take it. I think he’d rather chew off his own arm than leave me.
The driver drops my guard and me off at the door of a swanky restaurant, and although the doorman and ma?tre d’ are polite, an undercurrent of tension is in the air.
It looks like the restaurant has been rented out just for our party, and although it’s not unusual for meetings like this, and I’ve done it many times myself, something seems off.
“Your tables are right this way, Madam, and I hope—”
“Ah, Miss Taranova, I’m so sorry I can’t stay any longer. Please know that lunch for you and your men is on me, and eat and drink to your heart’s content.”
Javier Lopez, the man I was scheduled to meet today, is on his way out of the restaurant in a hurry, albeit seemingly in good spirits.
I’ve wanted to nip any possible animosity between our families in the bud, particularly since his wife is remotely related to the de la Rosa family.
With everything that went down between them and Ellie’s family…
I don’t want any needless violence at the beginning of my new reign.
“Mr. Lopez, thank you for coming. I was hoping to speak to you—”
“No need, sweetheart.”
Oh, fuck you.
“You’re incredibly lucky to have such a man as a future father-in-law, I’ll tell you that.
He’s gotten me to sign off on all sorts of shit today, even deals I’m taking losses on.
But it’ll be better for all of us in the long run.
With him at the helm, you won’t have to worry about anything but staying home and growing babies. Lucky, lucky girl!”
Double fuck you.
With that odious monologue complete, he’s out the front door, men in tow, a cloud of his sickly sweet cologne threatening to choke me as my anger bubbles to the surface.
It takes only a few seconds to calm myself, burying my emotions and tapping into the darkest, hardest part of myself.
I barely have time to send a quick text before the person who’s just signed his death warrant jovially bursts into the room.
“Mila, darling. Don’t stand in the doorway, come. We have much to celebrate and catch up on.”
Fucking Zadorov. Of course. I should have known that when Lopez said “future father-in-law,” he meant this snake. A quick scan of my periphery confirms that this place is packed with his men, so I plaster a smile on my face and prepare to play a chess match I had no clue was coming.
“Zakhar, it’s always a pleasure to see you. Even if I wasn’t expecting you today. Do you mind if I visit the ladies’ room before we begin?”
With pleasantries out of the way, I signal to my bodyguard to stay behind and make my way to the bathroom. It’s a show of trust to go alone, although if any of Zadorov’s men think they can take me, I’m not concerned about his plotting at all.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swear under my breath to see Misha’s reply to my emergency text.
Misha: Not sure, calling Ace. The plumbers may not have dug deep enough. Neighbors invited us to stay with them in the meantime. We’ll have to accept. Can’t stay here.
Fuck.
His text would read as nonsense to anyone tapping our phones, but the fact he felt it necessary is concerning. More concerning is what his message means. Ace is our code name for Ivan, and if Misha is involving him, it means he didn’t know anything about Zadorov’s plan.
Worse is the rest. Basically, we didn’t dig deep enough into Zakhar, and he’s gotten some sort of upper hand. I’ll have to play really fucking nice today to try to figure it out. Or at least try to live long enough to regroup. I steel myself and head back into the restaurant.
“There you are, I was about to come check on you. Here, sit down. I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“I am curious, yes. Although given how happy Lopez seemed on the way out, I’ll admit to being thankful that you’ve apparently deftly handled a prickly associate for me.”
My praise momentarily takes him by surprise, and his jovial facade breaks, shrewd eyes narrowing as he tries to determine my angle. He recovers in a blink, laughing it off and waving a dismissive hand.
“Oh, it was no trouble, my dear. I figured that anything that I could do to lighten your load would be appreciated. I’ve gotten Mr. Lopez to sign a contract, as you can see here, offering us very generous terms. Much better than you were expecting, I’m sure.”
He slides a folder across the table to me, and a quick scan confirms that the terms are generous. To the Zadorov Bratva. My stomach drops at his slimy smirk. Fuck, this is about to go from bad to worse.
“I also made some real strides in other areas that had been vexing you. Here are more contracts with…”
Folder after folder slides across the table, indeed showing that plenty of people who were assholes to me at the negotiation table have been willing to bend over backward to make a deal with Zakhar and the fucking Zadorov Bratva.
Photos of Thatcher on his way to and from practice chill me to my core, but the final folder is the worst. Nausea and panic flood my senses, and tears fill my eyes before I regain control.
These pictures shouldn’t exist anymore…we destroyed everything, I swear.
Fighting the sinking feeling that I can still recall from all those years ago, when I was so little… shit.
My position is officially fucked. Every cell in my body wants to fight, to stick a knife in this fucker’s eye socket right now and kill my way out of this building.
But as many men as I could take down, they’d likely get me too, and I’m smart enough to live to fight another day.
Time to put that urge in another neat box and smile.
“I’m surprised by the nomenclature on these contracts, Zakhar.”
“Why on earth would you be surprised, dear? If you thought you would keep your name on the outfit once you married Oleg, I’m not sure who ever gave you that idea.”
“You and I both know how our last conversation regarding the proposed marriage alliance went. I declined.”
“And now, I’ve given you no choice, you little bitch!
” His men perk up as he finally snaps and raises his voice, but a flick of his wrist has them relaxing once more.
“Your father fucking knew that a woman isn’t built for running an operation like ours, and he saved Thunder Bay from all this bullshit we’ve been dealing with.
Ivan is a weakling, and the harpy he married has put all kinds of nonsense in his head about what women are capable of, too. ”
“So you’re forcing my hand?”
“I’m preventing a war and the unnecessary loss of good Russian men. And I’m doing you a giant favor, dear. We can all see what a toll this is taking on you. I know you’d rather be baking cookies with the children, and this way, that’s all you’ll be required to do.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that it might not be possible for me to give your son children?”
He shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “We’ll find another dark-haired bitch, and he can knock her up instead.
As long as you raise the kid and keep up appearances, it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone to look the other way.
That might be the best-case scenario, anyway.
Keep the weak Taranov blood out of my line.
It takes generations to breed that out.”
I’m going to end your bloodline. Not today. But soon.
“Well, Zakhar, I don’t know what to say.”
“You can say ‘Thank you, Father-in-law, for solving all of my problems and allowing me to live a soft life befitting a woman.’”
“If you think—”
“I do think, pussycat. Your claws are well noted, and your feisty spirit will serve you well in my son’s bedroom.
Based on what I hear, you’ll need it. But for now, in this room, I think you’ll find that you’re going to do what I tell you to do and say what I tell you to say. And I want to hear you say it.”
My chest rises and falls calmly, and I refuse to let the red blush of anger rise from my chest to my neck.
My heart is racing, though, and I force myself to take stock of the situation.
Each of his men watches me closely, relaxed but ready to riddle me with bullets at one word from their boss.
More than a few of them have smirks, enjoying seeing me so humbled.
I box this feeling away for the next time I need to be my most ruthless.
“Thank you, Father-in-law, for solving all of my problems and allowing me to live a soft life befitting a woman.”
“See, gentlemen, you can teach an old dog new tricks.” A chorus of laughter fills the room, but I don’t hear it.
It’s funneled straight into another box, only to be opened when needed.
“This is a perfect example of why you aren’t fit to lead.
No man would have sat there and taken this from me lying down.
You’d probably get up on this table and spread your legs for us all if I told you to, wouldn’t you? Not like you’d have any choice…”
Please, no. No, no, no…
“But I don’t have time for that today. Maybe at the wedding reception.
I don’t have any further need for you. Take that packet of information and expect a call to coordinate travel and all the logistics.
The wedding will be in the Motherland, obviously, so start packing.
Now get out of my sight, dear daughter-in-law. ”
Gladly. With one last look around the room, I ensure I have every single smirking face burned into my memory. Zakhar’s right about purging weakness from bloodlines, and I’ll do my best to make sure every single one of these fucker’s ends.
Soon.