Chapter 14
MAKSIM
The next morning, I sit opposite a well-kept man with thick glasses and a fine layer of sweat clinging to his upper lip.
He’s the representative for a senator whose private emails were leaked recently.
He’s trying to figure out if it was our organization or Conrad’s.
We had access to none of his conversations, but it wouldn’t be wise for me to admit that.
In this world, implication is worth almost as much as fact.
Behind him, Nikolai paces. This is one of our moves.
Nikolai walks up and down like a caged lion, causing the man to think he might leap at him any second.
My mind is partially here, partially with Lia.
Perhaps that’s going to be my new norm now, always partly somewhere else, with her. It’s not a bad thing.
Wesley Grant adjusts his glasses and clears his throat. “The senator is eager to know if there’s anything he can do to make this process smoother for himself,” he murmurs.
“So, you think we just piss our information all over the streets?” Nikolai says from behind him, pacing endlessly.
“Nuh-no,” the man stutters. “Not at all. That’s not what I’m saying.” He smiles tightly, more like a reflex, and throws his hands up. “What am I saying?”
I almost feel bad for him. He isn’t built for situations like this. That’s why the Bratva functions so well in this world. These men are used to weak, terrified men like themselves.
“I’m waiting for that too,” I say flatly.
“We just want to know, uh, if there’s a reason why the nation now knows…” He hesitates.
“Now knows the size and color and shape of your lauded senator’s penis,” Nikolai says, laughing darkly. “And that he’s not shy about shooting it through the ether for all to see.”
Wesley swallows. “Well, yes, exactly…”
I lean forward. “Perhaps your senator should remember that there are fees to be paid in this town. Fees which would have protected him from this sort of thing. Was he paying any fees, Mr. Grant?”
He looks like a chastised schoolboy, shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly.
“And now look what’s happened,” Nikolai snaps. “He might not recover from this.”
“But if he does,” I go on. “Tell him to give us a call. Data kept with us is better than data left in the wild. He should’ve thought of that before he tried to fly solo.”
This is part of the job too. Protection. With our vast resources, we hire the best cybersecurity specialists imaginable to wipe our clients’ histories clean… while saving a small piece for ourselves. It’s ugly work, sure, but still better than what other mafias do.
Once Wesley is gone, Nikolai leaves to handle some business.
I’ve got back-to-back meetings with legitimate clients.
It’s not like we can just plaster on the door, Volkov Enterprises, Blackmail and Deep Dark Secret Specialists!
Our front-facing businesses span a wide range, from security to retail and anything in between.
I check my phone for the tenth time. I feel like a teenager, waiting for his crush to text him first. I’m trying to give Lia some space, but it’s difficult. Ultimately, I text her.
Maksim: When are you next getting a day off? I don’t want you working yourself into the ground.
I feel a huge sense of relief when she texts back an hour later.
Lia: Days off? What are they again?
Maksim: They’re what you take when you’re not at work. You should try it sometime. If money is the issue, all you have to do is say.
Her next reply is even faster.
Lia: Don’t offer me that again. It’s shameful enough that I’m staying at your place rent-free, and that’s only because I’d never be able to afford to pay even a fraction of that. I pay my way. It’s what my mother taught me.
Maksim: I won’t offer again.
I tell her, though it pisses me off. There’s no reason for her to grind herself to dust when I could make a one-time payment into her account and change her entire life.
But I respect that. It’s just difficult knowing how hard she works, especially when I’ve seen it.
Lia: Thank you.
Maksim: If you won’t take time off work, let me give your brain a rest. I’ll come by later.
Lia: Maksim, I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
Maksim: I’m not some animal, beautiful.
Lia: Ha! Really? Could’ve fooled me.
My intercom buzzer goes off.
Maksim: Let me surprise you. Let me treat you.
Lia:
My smile is borderline delirious. The buzzer goes off for a second time.
Maksim: I’m taking that as a yes.
I put my phone in my desk drawer.
“Yes?” I say, pressing the intercom button.
“Mr. Vale is here to see you. But he doesn’t appear to have a meeting.”
“Send him in.”
A few moments later, Conrad Vale walks into the room.
He’s a short, wide man with a perpetual sneer on his face.
He wears a suit with an American flag pinned to the lapel like a wannabe politician, as if he can’t accept his station in life.
On paper, we’re rival businessmen. In reality, I wouldn’t mind leaving him in an unmarked ditch.
The difference between me and this lowlife?
If I find vicious things in the data of our lauded elite, I quietly pass them to the authorities. The real dark stuff. The stuff nightmares are made of. Conrad has no such compulsions.
I smile thinly. “Take a seat, Conrad. What a welcome surprise this is.”
His smile is even thinner as he sits. “I always enjoy dropping by on the competition.”
“Care for something to drink?”
“Thank you, no. I won’t be here long.”
I nod. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I heard you met with Wesley Grant today.”
“That’s correct.”
“I was curious about what he had to say.”
I almost laugh. That’s his cover for being here? The shit-eating grin on his face says otherwise. He’s not here for the senator’s situation. He’s here to rub his recent victory in my face.
I could lift him off his feet with one hand and growl in his face, “If I had even a shred of proof you were behind my shooting, you’d be dead.” And watch him piss his pants.
“I’m afraid that’s confidential,” I say.
“I tried to explain to the senator. Keys are everywhere in this town. And they open all kinds of locks.”
He’s hinting at the phone, reveling in it. It’s pathetic. Childish. And it’s working.
“How profound,” I say. “I’m not sure what it means, but yes, very insightful. Thank you for that.”
He grins even wider. He knows I’m being sarcastic, but it doesn’t do anything to ruin his enjoyment.
“How are things, anyway?” he asks.
“You know,” I say. “A few loose ends. But I’ll tie them up soon enough.”
Tight enough to cut off circulation.
“I’m sure you will,” he says. “It’s like I told the senator.
Perhaps the weak link was one of his girlfriends.
You know what it’s like with civilians. If we let them too close, they hurt us, or we hurt them.
It always happens. It’s inevitable. You’d have to be an idiot to drag an everyday person into this mess.
You’d be nursing your wounds for weeks.”
I stand and slowly walk around the desk. I force myself to move slowly, or the Bratva beast inside me will burst out and I’ll wring his neck. His smile has vanished by the time I reach him.
He looks up at me, his mouth open. “You obviously know where we are,” he whispers. “And you obviously understand that my people know where I am.”
He means that I’d be a lunatic to attack him here. He’s right. It could ruin my business.
I lean down, coming face to face with him, the pounding in my skull growing louder. He just threatened Lia without coming right out and saying it. He just threatened the only woman who’s ever made me feel a damn thing.
“You’ve got your contacts,” I say quietly. “You’ve got men you can send to trash a few stores. Even take some potshots on the street.”
“I don’t know what you’re tal?—”
He shuts up when I reach out and casually wrap my hand around his neck. He swallows, all the cockiness draining from him.
“But if you take this where you just hinted, you bloated, sick fuck, you’ll see the other side of me, Vale. Is that what you want? Do you want me to send the businessman away?”
He swallows with a loud gulp.
“I asked you a question,” I snarl.
“No,” he whispers.
“This isn’t going how you imagined it would.”
He shakes his head, eyes wide with terror. “No,” he says again.
“If you like your chances, try something. Come out of the shadows. But you won’t enjoy what happens after that.”
Translation: attempt to hurt Lia, and I’ll beat him to death with my own hands. But I can’t say that. The little prick is probably recording this meeting. That’s always a safe assumption in this line of work.
I let him go, nodding to the door. “Go on. Scurry away.”
He stands, hurries to the door, then remembers he’s supposed to be a powerful man. He stops and glares at me. Opens his mouth like he wants to make some face-saving statement.
I take a step toward him, and he flees.
It feels good, but being so openly hostile is a mistake. He won’t forget this.
Before, this was business. He wants us gone because, without the Volkovs, he can own all the data in this city.
Now—fuck—now, I’ve just made it personal.