Chapter 44 #3
"I care about the outcome." Levan stands up from his chair. "If you die in a blind suicide charge, everything I built over the last ten years dies right alongside you. My alliances and plans will vanish. All my hard work will disappear just so my angry nephew could throw a temper tantrum."
"Don't lecture me, old man," I growl.
The tension in the room thickens. Levan stares directly at me, a dark shadow shifting behind his eyes. "What did you just say?"
"I said, don't lecture me." The reckless words slip from my mouth before I can stop them.
"You sit safely inside your compound to bark orders while I handle the actual street work. You treat this war like a board game while I bleed for our family name. You hid in the shadows for ten years, uncle. I spent that decade building a criminal operation from nothing. I fought Romanov’s men in the bloody streets.
I buried my dead friends and expanded the territory you lost. You shot the old Pakhan and disappeared into thin air to let me handle the mess. "
Not a single muscle twitches on Levan’s face.
"You failed your mission." The accusation spills from my lips in an angry rush.
"You murdered his father and ran away from the scene. You never finished the job. You left us behind to deal with the violent consequences. I faced Alexei Romanov’s revenge while you sat in a luxury compound eating hot dinners and playing the grand strategist. You are a coward.
You are a failed assassin who couldn't even… "
"Are you speaking to me?" Levan asks in a quiet tone.
The temperature in the room plummets to freezing.
"Are you speaking to me, boy?" Levan takes a threatening step forward.
"I am the man who executed a Pakhan at his own dinner table.
I built the financial network that funds your little empire.
I brought the wealthy Saudis to our negotiating table.
Without my money and connections, you would be running a cheap kebab shop back in Tbilisi. "
I open my mouth to argue.
"Sit down right now," he orders.
I drop back into my chair.
"You feel emotional right now. I understand your reaction.
Romanov captured your brother and threatened our plans.
But raw emotion is not a valid strategy.
Blind rage is never a battle plan." He straightens his crisp shirt cuffs.
"Romanov is waiting for us to make a rash move.
He wants us to rush the gates and attack his men blind.
He wants us to act angry and stupid. Angry and stupid men die fast."
"Then what do you suggest we do?" I mutter.
"We wait three full days. We need to finalize the inbound weapons shipment and position our men in the proper locations.
We will hit his infrastructure first. We strike the shipping ports and the money laundering operations.
We cut off his cash supply before we cut his throat.
" Levan picks up the cracked laptop from the floor and sets it on the table.
"We just have to pray your brother lacks the deep knowledge to cause unmanageable damage. "
"And what happens if he knows too much? What if Stanislav already told him our entire playbook?"
"Then we adjust our plans to survive. We survived worse situations before." Levan pins me with a hard stare. "But we do not attack his forces blindly, Dato. We won't strike tonight or tomorrow. We move on my command alone. Is that clear?"
I stare up at the older man. He has controlled every aspect of my life since I turned twenty. I worship his power and resent his authority at the exact same time. He’s always right about these gang wars, and I hate him for his perfection.
"Is my order clear?" he repeats.
"Yes, uncle," I grumble.
"Good." He walks toward the heavy doors and pauses in the frame.
"And Dato? If you ever call me a failure again, I will remind you of what I did to the last man who disrespected me.
I do not care if we share blood." He casts a cold glance over his shoulder.
"Your brother got his weak softness from somewhere. He didn't get it from me."
I sit alone in the wrecked sitting area minutes after my uncle leaves. Broken glass and splintered wood surround my chair. The heavy silence of the guards presses against my ears. They all just watched their boss completely fall apart.
Three days. Levan wants to wait three entire days.
Romanov is planning a massive counterattack.
I can feel the danger in my bones. A heavy storm of violence is approaching our doorstep.
Static electricity prickles across my skin.
My little brother sits trapped in a dark basement somewhere in the city.
He’s bleeding and broken. He whispers our darkest secrets to the exact man trying to destroy our empire.
And I can’t do anything but wait for the clock to run out.
I lean down to pick up a sharp shard of glass from the rug, rolling the piece between my fingers and watching the ceiling light catch on the jagged edge.
Three days.
If Stanislav survives the next three days, I will storm that compound to rescue him. And then I will execute the boy myself for being so fucking weak.